


Two Months Before the Storm

by ewige



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe, Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-06-18 21:58:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 65,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15495555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ewige/pseuds/ewige
Summary: The Doctor and Rose pop by London in 2007 and find themselves in more trouble than they initially realise. When their adversaries’ stubbornness and greed prevail, Rose loses not only her planet and home, but every link to the world outside the TARDIS.It's the first part of a trilogy but can stand alone.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Два месяца до грозы](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/401652) by Scarlet Moon. 



> Many thanks to Scarlet Moon and Beverley Jean Smith for their help.

_Day 734, in space_  
  
Having dragged the screaming and kicking Rose on board the TARDIS, the Doctor pulls the lever and activates the emergency start system. Rose makes a dash for the door, but he manages to grab her by her shoulders at the very moment when the ground lurches away from under their feet.

He holds onto the coral strut with one hand, barely keeping them both from tumbling down to the ramp. The TARDIS rockets off into space with a pained groan and leaves the shining blue planet way behind.

“Let go! Let go of me!” Rose demands furiously. But when she can look outside again, there’s no sign of Earth any more. The blindingly white glow is gone. The rift has closed.

Rose points at the empty space with a shaking hand. “It’s… it’s…”

“It’s gone, Rose. It doesn’t exist any more,” the Doctor replies flatly.

“No, it can’t be happening.” She shakes her head and presses on more confidently, “We’ve been to the future. None of this ever happened, we’ve seen it! We’ve seen it, Doctor!”

Her voice rises to a shout and Rose is scared to death. She turns around abruptly to look the Time Lord in the eye, searching for confirmation, but he slowly shakes his head. “The time has jumped the track. None of this should have happened, but the history has changed its course. I’m sorry, Rose. I’m so sorry.”

She presses her hands to her mouth, staggering backwards until her back hits the door. A tiny sob escapes her throat and she bursts into tears just a moment later. “We’ve got to get back! We’ve got to get back and fix everything!” she shouts and runs for the console, expecting him to follow. He doesn’t move.

“Too late,” the Doctor says regretfully. “I’m sorry.”

Rose bustles around the control panel muttering to herself. Her voice is a nervous broken whisper and the Doctor can’t make out the words. Her throat’s about to close off in a fit of hysteria so she tries to ward it off by jamming her knuckles to her lips. In the end, Rose leans against the console and slowly slides down to the cold grating.

The tears on her face are still silent and mostly unconscious. The Doctor sits down next to her, but doesn’t dare touch her.

Rose is shivering all over, almost convulsing. She’s yet to comprehend what’s happened.

A moment later more tears shake her frame. Rose doubles over and weeps until she loses her voice. The Doctor’s throat burns unbearably, but he still can’t gather enough courage to reach out to her.

She goes rigid all of a sudden. Her darkened eyes fixate on one point in space, and she even stops crying for a second. “Mum!” she wails and fresh rivulets of tears follow. His both hearts sink.

Rose clutches his jacket, wheezes and gasps for air. Her pretty face is a mishmash of red and black. Mascara stains the Doctor’s lips, when he kisses her wet cheeks.

When she’s left with no strength at all, Rose folds into herself like a broken puppet. The Doctor suspects at one point that she’s lost consciousness. He’d almost wish for that to be true.

He reaches out and touches her feverish skin with his unsteady fingers. Rose winces but doesn’t open her eyes.

His shirt is drenched in her tears. The Doctor screws his eyes shut, burrows his chin into Rose’s tangled hair and pulls her into a hard, unbreakable, guilty embrace. She reacts with a stifled sob – too weak, but still conscious. The Doctor would rather she passed out.

They don’t speak for quite a while. Rose wouldn’t be able to even if she tried. Her eyes are dark and empty and the Doctor is carefully avoiding her gaze. He refuses to know how much time has passed until she speaks again. “So… what now?”

The Doctor barely recognizes her voice. “Nothing, Rose. The time marches on,” he says softly. Her hair is wet with her tears, but still oh so soft between his fingers.

“My head hurts so much.”

He exhales and presses his lips to the top of her head. For a brief second the Doctor actually contemplates making her forget. Instead, he touches the pulsing veins on her temple and lulls Rose into deep and peaceful sleep.  



	2. Earth Etiquette

_Day 671, the Earth_

“I did ask that daft alien not to land his ruddy box in my flat!”

The familiar rectangular outline appeared in the living room accompanied by grinding and whirring noises. The wind buffeted heaps of magazines, old unpaid bills and haphazardly opened letters. The commotion was surrounded by a soft glow and the space-time vehicle materialised a few moments later, crushing something with a loud crack.

“It’s not a box, it’s the TARDIS. The TAR-DIS. Type 40 to be precise. Assembled on Gallifrey before your ancestors came down from the trees,” the Doctor announced in his best lecturing tone, coming through the door with sniggering Rose in tow. “Jackie, I can hear your caterwauling, even in the Vortex!”

“And I haven’t even started properly yet! Mark my words, Mister! A whole month passes and there’s not a peep from the two of you. What good is your time machine if you’ve no idea how to use it anyway?”

“There’s only one person in the whole wide universe with the ability to yell over the TARDIS and naturally, it’s Jackie Tyler. What have I ever done to get mixed up with this woman?” the Doctor continued as though he hadn’t heard the outburst. Rose was leaning against the door and laughing openly.

Jackie put her hands on her hips in the most menacing way.

“Look at what you’ve done, both of you! I’ll end up with no furniture at all!”

“But mum, you remember what happened when Mrs Morgan saw us landing outside,” Rose objected weakly. The Doctor pinched his ear.

“Yeah, that was awkward. But she's not predicting the end of the world any more, is she? I mean, there’s been quite a few recently…”

“She isn’t. But she insists I stop letting my little girl go off with ‘that psycho’ and she’s totally right!” Jackie sighed and gathered the stray duo into a big affectionate hug. “Aw, come here you sillies. Tell me what you’ve been up to during all this time.”

Rose and the Doctor exchanged a quick glance: they’d agreed just a few minutes earlier that none of their recent travels were appropriate to share with a worried mother. Her only daughter somehow kept ending up either trapped inside a TV, or on the receiving end of a prophecy that spelt out her impending and inevitable demise. The Doctor cleared his throat noisily.

“Oh, we’ve been all over the place,” he squeaked, nervously raking his hand through his hair. “So many different planets, impossible to keep track…”

Jackie shook a fist at him. “I can see right through you. No regeneration trick’s gonna save you if somebody so much as harms a hair on her head.”

“That would be my most terrifying death of them all,” the Doctor rolled his eyes. “But tell us, how’s it going on Earth? No more ginormous bats or headless Prime Ministers?”

“Bats? What’s he blabbering on about?” Jackie frowned and turned to Rose, as though asking the Doctor was a waste of breath. Rose merely waved it off.

“Never mind. They sort of masqueraded as teachers trying to turn their students into a means to achieve the world domination. Everything ended well, but he…” she nodded towards the Doctor accusingly, “…he made me work as a dinner lady!”  
  
The Doctor took a breath to protest vehemently, but had no chance to utter a single word.  Jackie Tyler was apparently the only person who could give him a run for his money, when it came to rapid-fire arguments.

“Well, it’s not like you’re doing any honest work otherwise! Just so you know, I’m still paying your bills, while you’re having fun hopping around the universe in that thing. And it’s quite a lump of money over the year!”

“So what about your news here on Earth, Jackie?” the Doctor reminded her. Rose sighed with relief, having dodged the conversation her mother had apparently been planning for a while. Jackie shook her head and went to the kitchen to make a start on tea.

“Well, there’s that bloke. He appeared out of nowhere. Whatshisface… stupid name, he’s got. Ah, Cuthbert Crofton! There you go. Our new leading light in science. He says he found a new alternative energy source,” Jackie enunciated clearly, obviously making fun of somebody’s quote. “According to him, heaven on earth is now just a frog jump away.”

“Well well well, isn’t that interesting!” the Doctor perked up visibly. “So what’s the energy source?”

“How should I know? Some sort of a hole or a rift and a whole load of barely comprehensible nonsense.”

“Cuthbert?” Rose winced. “What century’s he from? Fourteenth?”

“So when exactly has the technical revolution been scheduled for?” the Doctor demanded impatiently. Jackie shrugged.

“Who knows. If you ask me, they should fix the glitches in the electrical grid first. And set up self-checkout machines in all groceries. All these queues will be the death of me! By the way, d’you know what they’re up to? They’re going to close down Sainsbury’s on our street! They say they’ve got two other stores in Peckham anyway. Do you have any idea how far I’m supposed to carry those shopping bags now?”

The Doctor wasn’t listening any more. He grinned giddily and elbowed Rose.

“What do you say? Should we find that Cuthbert bloke and see how he’s going to make the world a better place?”

Rose replied with her own smug grin, the tip of her tongue peeking out between her teeth. “Have I ever declined such a tempting offer?”  
  
  
_Day 673_  
  
“Alexandra Palace!” the Doctor exclaimed excitedly, sticking his hands into the pockets of his tuxedo. “Haven’t been here in a while, actually since that time when good old Edward... Oh well, strike that. Not the best story.”

Rose paid little attention to the Doctor’s babbling. She stood in front of a mirror and sighed with resignation, hitching up the hem of her floor-length gown and letting it cascade down again. “I look all aubergine-y.”

“I’ll have you know that vegetables are very en vogue in the thirty-fourth century. Back to the roots and all that,” the Doctor dead panned but couldn’t hold her glare and dissolved into laughter.

Rose merely rolled her eyes. She was already feeling ill at ease, and his teasing didn’t do much to help her to carry herself like she belonged with the crème de la crème of the British society.

“Let’s go! We don’t want to miss out on all the fun!” the Doctor said and pulled Rose along by her elbow.

The Great Hall of Alexandra Palace sparkled with sheer luxury, as though ready to receive the Prince of Wales at the very least. Long tables were overladen with delicacies, the staff were bustling about with slim flutes of champagne looking like they’d got the most generous tip in their career. Ladies in exorbitantly expensive gowns but with no concept of where East End would be situated on the map, gathered in flocks to trade rumours and niceties while their husbands were diligently exchanging business cards. Rose shifted awkwardly from foot to foot.

“Quit fidgeting. You look great.”

“We’re at a banquet and I’m neither staff nor maid nor dinner lady,” Rose scoffed.

The Doctor appeared to think about it. “You’re right, it’s an unfortunate oversight. Uniforms would’ve made it easier for us. Although I wouldn’t willingly put you in the kitchens.”

“You’d miss my infallible ability to find trouble?”

“Nah. It’s just that humans have quite sensitive stomachs. Well, compared to other species, that is. I’d rather not put anybody at risk.”

“Oy!”

The Doctor lowered his head and whispered into her ear, “Dame Rose, the Duchess of Norfolk is staring at us.”

Rose hunched a little, focusing on the toes of her fancy shoes. “It’s the twenty-first century and they’re still as snobbish as ever,” she muttered, fixing the hem that kept catching on her heel.

A thin square-jawed woman in an emerald green dress turned her prominent nose up demonstratively, the second she spotted Rose.

“Why does he gather all the crowd here if the project’s still unfinished, anyway?” Rose asked morosely.

The Doctor stuck his hands in his pockets and bounced on the balls of his feet. “I suppose he’s fishing for funding. Let’s have a look around.”

Suddenly serious, he scanned the festive hall. Everything around them appeared to have frozen in anticipation: the music was muted, the guests were conversing quietly, the staff hadn’t yet lost their air of excessive courtesy. The centre-stage screen, although still dark, kept drawing curious looks to itself, as though something was supposed to appear there without advance notice.

“We’ve got to befriend somebody. Maybe they’ll tell us something interesting,” the Doctor said, nodding towards the buffet table and a few bored gentlemen around it. A bunch of giggling girls in almost identical candy floss pink dresses kept circling around the men, apparently having taken to heart their mothers’ order to not come back home without a husband.

“Since when are you interested in rumours?” asked Rose, reaching for a mineral water.

“Just adapting that domestic approach of yours,” the Doctor replied with a sly grin.

She barely had time to take a sip when an agitated, breathless young man appeared out of thin air before them. Stepping back, Rose almost spilt the water over her dress.

“Doctor!” the young man exclaimed. “I can’t believe it’s you! Thought my eyes were playing tricks on me.”

The Doctor and Rose exchanged puzzled glances. The newcomer was of an odd appearance: broad-shouldered and lanky, he looked like an oversized child. He could have passed for an eighteen- or thirty-year-old in equal measure. He was a little lop-eared and skinny-faced and his smile was so sincere and innocent, that it almost begged to escort its owner back to middle school.

“Er, have we met before? Or later? Getting the time frame right isn’t always easy in my case...” the Doctor scratched the back of his head.

“We haven’t, but I’ve read your file,” the young man replied excitedly. “The Sea Devils, it was brilliant!”

The Doctor had to think for a moment, but then it hit him. “Oh, you must be with UNIT,” he beamed. “Rose, you know about UNIT, right? I used to work there.”

“Forgive my manners, I haven’t introduced myself,” the young man laughed. It sounded forced like he was trying really hard to appear at ease. “Jonathan Baker. Colonel Coulson’s private secretary,” he aimed for proud and even puffed out his chest a little, but it came out self-conscious and shy.

The Doctor shook the offered hand readily. “I’m the Doctor and this is Rose.”

“Hi!” Rose smiled widely.

“It’s nice to meet you. What an honour, really,” Jonathan mumbled and the tips of his ears turned red.

The Doctor rubbed his neck awkwardly, trying to get his fingers beneath the starched collar of his dress shirt, and winked, “We’re not exactly advertising our presence here.”

Jonathan grinned back as though he was in on a conspiracy. “So what brings you to this unremarkable time and place, sir?”

“Do you know anything about that Cuthbert Crofton bloke?”

“Very little.” Jonathan picked a canapé from the table and began nibbling on it. “Rumour is he graduated from Oxford and went on to do some top-secret work for the government, but I say it’s a load of bollocks.”

“Oh really?” the Doctor said.

“Absolutely,” Jonathan stabbed the air with his canapé stick. “Nobody’s heard of him up until a few months ago, and now Prince Andrew himself meets up with him for tea. Crofton appeared out of nowhere. I say there’s something fishy in this business. And that stupid name! Even my aunt Siobhan wouldn’t be able to come up with that name.”

“Yeah,” Rose nodded. “ So what kind of project is that? How’s he going to change the world?”

“Apparently we’re about to find out,” Jonathan said, gesturing with his glass to his side.

A middle-aged man was going up the stairs to the stage. He wasn’t exactly short but looked a little stocky because of his broad shoulders. His pale skin had a greyish tint as though he hadn’t been in the sun for quite a while. He had collected his almost black hair in a short ponytail and looked not unlike a Native American.

One of the staff clinked a knife against a glass when the man reached the middle of the stage, but there was no need to ask for attention: the Great Hall had turned expectantly silent, the second Cuthbert Crofton had started his ascent.

Tall and proud, he looked at the guests below, smiled and opened his arms in a warm gesture as though embracing them all. His hands and shoulders moved unexpectedly gracefully considering his build. His whole appearance was contradictory and surprisingly charismatic. A murmur of approval ran through the crowd.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” Cuthbert began, drawing out his vowels pretentiously. He spoke with a faint accent, distantly resembling German. “It’s a great honour to meet all of your here today, in this splendid Great Hall of Alexandra Palace...”

Rose rolled her eyes. “Wherever he came from, he blends in with this lot perfectly.”

Cuthbert continued. “The people of planet Earth have been searching for limitless energy and endless resources since the Dark Ages. Alchemists devoted their lives to the quest of finding the so-called Philosopher’s Stone. The technological race may seem unending, but what if I told you that I actually managed it – that I found the Philosopher’s Stone?” he asked, pointing up elegantly with his little finger. “What if I told you that the source of limitless energy was right here, right within our reach?”

The two uninvited guests exchanged a swift glance.

“Do tell me,” Crofton asked in a suddenly cordial voice. “How many people currently depend on electricity? What are the odds that you own no TV or cooker or iron unless you live beyond the reach of civilisation? For how long can a modern man survive in darkness with no computer or mobile? But then... Have you looked at your electricity bill lately?” he asked suddenly, piercing the listeners with his inquisitive stare.

A few of them went quiet and looked at one another as if caught out. Crofton stood straighter and pressed on.

“Now just imagine that you have to cut down on such basic needs. Bringing a kettle to boil is a luxury for many poor souls already now. And what about gas prices? Even the mildest winter borders on natural disaster! And at the same time, politicians merely blather on about electric cars and ecology.”

Crofton paused for the listeners to vent a little among themselves. The hall erupted in such an indignant buzz, that one could have thought the rich and famous would actually bother to boil the kettle themselves.

“Today, I declare war on this state of affairs!” Cuthbert’s voice rose high, immediately losing its ingratiating tones. “Our life will change from this day onwards. We’ll never again have to think about energy prices because it will become inexhaustible and therefore dirt cheap. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the project that’s going to change your life on Earth very soon.”

Crofton stepped back and pressed a button on his stand. A picture of a town landscape filled the screen behind him. The crowd rippled with confused muttering.

“This is Roald Dahl Plass in Cardiff,” he supplied. “I’ve located a significant source of energy next to this place. A spatial-temporal rift if you wish.”

The picture on the screen changed to a 3D graphics. The Doctor hurried to slip on his glasses as if they actually helped him to see better.

“It basically works similarly to a rotating black hole,” Crofton continued, his eyes sparkling, his voice swelling with excitement. He didn’t appear to need an audience any more. “My colleagues from _Proxima_ and I have conducted a simple but very successful experiment. Let me tell you about it.” He half-turned towards the screen and raised his hand to mimic the undulating movements of the graphics. “The rift expands and shrinks cyclically. At the beginning of every cycle, we introduce a solid object into its ergosphere that then separates into two parts. One of them is drawn towards the core of the rift, while the other one is pushed to the surface by its magnetic field.” The next slide appeared after a click. “The foreign object in the ergosphere slows down the natural angular momentum and accumulates the excess energy. Then the accretion plate – designed and patented by yours truly – draws it back towards the surface and extracts the stored energy. However, to launch the extraction on a commercial scale...”

The guests almost dozed off to the sound of Crofton’s dulcet tones, so nobody really knew what was happening when one more man appeared on stage. Almost pressing his nose to the presenter’s laptop screen and squinting hard to study the diagram in every detail, the Doctor was oblivious to the world around him.

“What’s he doing?” Jonathan whispered. Rose shrugged: the Doctor had sneaked off before she realized he was going anywhere.

“Happens all the time. Just last week we were banned from Tophorrha, because he called the heir to the throne an idiot and ruined the coronation ceremony.”

Perplexed Cuthbert couldn’t react in any timely manner. “I beg your pardon...?” he managed finally and carefully approached the intruder. The Doctor kept muttering under his breath, paying him no attention. Cuthbert cleared his throat forcefully.

“But of course!” the Doctor exclaimed at last, turning around so suddenly that Crofton started. “The energy from this rift should be enough to power whole planetary systems!”

“Well I intended to clarify exactly that – ” Crofton began but the Doctor flung up his arms.

“Don’t you see? This kind of energy powers time machines! It’s enough to simply park close to the rift to refuel the TARDIS, so trying to stick something inside would be... the rift would just open and swallow everything around it! No Earth technology would ever suffice to control it.”

The people in the Great Hall began muttering. The Doctor looked like a madman, but his words were enough to cast doubt on the presenter. After a brief awkward pause, Crofton threw back his head and laughed loudly, then enveloped the Doctor’s shoulders in an amicable half-hug and began pushing him slowly off the stage.

“Well, obviously our friend here has forgotten that it’s the twenty-first century and not the Dark Ages any more. No need to worry, mate. The Cardiff spatial-temporal rift is in good hands of _Proxima_. Besides, we’ve been promised the end of the world at least thrice in the recent years but look at us – still alive and kicking!” Crofton guffawed and turned to the hall to see whether the guests could appreciate his joke.

“But listen – ” the Doctor objected but was swiftly escorted off the stage. Two guards with blank faces cut off his way back.

“The good fellow has apparently overindulged in aperitifs,” Crofton turned back to the hall with the most charming of smiles. A few of the listeners barked a laugh.

Rose waddled up to the Doctor on her high heels from hell and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. The prominently nosed lady spared them a dismissive glance, reached for her voluminous fan and turned stiffly away, showing her manlike Adam’s apple. Rose and the Doctor made their way back to their table accompanied by a few mocking laughs. Jonathan was waiting for them there, shifting from foot to foot.

“I need to talk to this Crofton fellow,” the Doctor said thoughtfully.

Meanwhile, the scientist finished his presentation with swiftly regained confidence, stepped down from the stage and started chatting with a group of rotund gentlemen while sipping his champagne. A few girls were flocking around them, giggling coquettishly and sporting charming smiles.

“You want to try and change his mind?” Rose asked.

Jonathan scratched his chin. “He can’t make a start on the project before the high-ups give him their blessing.”

“Well that won’t take long,” the Doctor muttered, watching the men surrounding Crofton pull out their mobiles and notebooks eagerly.

The guests quickly lost their stiff postures and lofty detachment once the formal part of the function was over. Drinks and tiredness made the voices louder and the laughter more confident.

The discarded screen made room for the band and respectable dishes took over from champagne flutes and paltry nibbles. A girl from the candy floss faction was giggling loudly at a shy youth’s jokes, that he must have googled the day before the outing.

Bored Doctor rested his chin on his hand, following Rose with his eyes. She’d chucked her annoying shoes to dance with their new UNIT friend. Her East End awkwardness was gone together with the official tone of the party. She’d stopped paying attention to the lady with a manlike Adam’s apple and other guests’ disapproving glances. She’d stopped noticing that regal postures and clear enunciation were as natural to the other girls in the hall as their beauty sleep. Rose’s laughter was in fact so infectious that she and Jonathan were soon joined by other couples, turning the Great Hall into a dance floor.

“Aren’t you dancing?” a very young girl of about seventeen, the youngest of the candy floss lot, appeared before the Doctor, flashing him a shy white-toothed smile. His head jerked up and he began humming and hawing, caught on the hop as he was. “Come on, it’s so much fun!” the girl persisted.

“I’m, er... well... I’m not...”

“Please, sir... my sisters will never let me live it down,” she said shyly, nodding towards two older laughing girls. “It took me so much time to gather my nerve...”

“Really?” the Doctor mumbled even more awkwardly. The girl nodded with such a vigour that it sent her tresses bouncing. “Well, in this case...”

“Thank you!” she beamed and pulled him towards the middle of the hall where the most fun was to be had. “Can you dance?”

“Well...” the Doctor ran his hand through his messy hair. “I rarely...”

“Don’t worry, I’ll teach you. My name’s Anna, Anna Playton. And you are?”

“Doctor, just Doctor.”

“It’s a pity nobody listened to you,” Anna wrinkled her nose indignantly. “I think Mister Crofton is just so full of himself.”

“Do you?”

“Oh yes. Father and he work together a lot.”

“So you’ve met him before?”

“No, I haven’t. He called a couple of times but always on business, you understand. There’s a lot of talk about energy, now that companies are going bankrupt one after another.”

“Going bankrupt?” the Doctor asked. Anna blinked in surprise.

“Haven’t you heard? The second one in the last six months.”

“I’ve been away,” the Doctor mumbled.

“Let’s talk interesting stuff! Tell me about yourself, Doctor. Are you a scientist?”

“Well... You could say so.”

“Fascinating! We’ve got mostly politicians and businessmen in the family.”

When the music stopped, the Doctor’s eyes automatically began scanning the hall for Rose and Jonathan. Rose noticed that and waved back. Leaving Jonathan in care of three girls, she joined the Doctor and his dancing partner.

“Having fun?”

“Couldn’t resist. Rose, please meet Anna Playton. Anna, this is my friend Rose.”

Anna looked at the pair of them in surprise, her prettily manicured finger following her gaze. “So you’re... My apologies, I couldn’t have known you were together. You were dancing with another man so I thought...” she stammered in embarrassment.

Rose smiled and shrugged. “It’s usually quite difficult to persuade him to dance so well done, you.”

“It’s quite alright, Anna. It was my pleasure to meet you,” the Doctor added, bowing slightly and kissing the girl’s hand. With rapidly reddening ears and a squeak of a thank-you, Anna beat a hasty retreat to where her sisters were standing.

“A tenner says her mother’s already drawn up a guest list for your wedding,” Rose teased.

The music swelled again with a melodic but fairly quick number to keep single dancers on the floor, and Rose slung her arms around the Doctor’s shoulders, pulling him into a dance.

“Nah, weddings are not my thing,” he frowned. “Although on some planets marriage is a done deal from the moment two adults touch hands. Or tentacles. It’s more difficult with polygender species. In order to be married, they have to find one specimen of each gender necessary for reproduction.”

Rose laughed at that. “Too much information!”

“For example, the Tankon have amazing physiology,” the Doctor continued, pretending not to hear her. “Can you believe it, they have five parents!”

“Dividing assets in a divorce must be a nightmare.”

“Rose Tyler, you can make any wonder of nature sound extremely dull.”

“I thought you liked my fresh perspective,” she drawled teasingly, showing the tip of her tongue between her teeth. “So are we actually dancing, or do you think I came here for a chat?”

“I’ve spoiled you terribly, Dame Rose.”  
  
The crowd began to thin. Every new song saw fewer and fewer people dancing. Empty trays were being carried away but not replaced with new dishes any more. The number of waiting cabs went down from a whole fleet to a reasonable few, and the party host hadn’t been seen in quite a while. Fast-paced music turned into wistful blues and Rose was almost clinging to the Doctor’s shoulders, lazily shuffling her feet.

“It’s so odd. I mean banquets, high society, the whole works. Going to functions on, say, Aldonien is a completely different matter. It’s just horsing around there, even in the President’s palace. But here I can’t shake the feeling that everybody’s staring at me, just waiting for a chance to pounce on me.”

“Well, they really do stare,” the Doctor chuckled.

“You’re no consolation at all!” Rose muttered and swatted his arm half-heartedly.

“I haven’t noticed you being discomfited by Queen Victoria’s presence.”

“She was probably itching to sign me up for etiquette training! Just imagine me prancing around in a corset, speaking like Princess Di.”

“Now I know why we’ve been banished from the British Empire. It was all about Rose Tyler’s manners. And there I thought our fanciful stargazing was to blame.”

Rose laughed, butting her head against his shoulder. “Let’s get outta here. I need to peel off this vegetable. And we’ve got to find out what Crofton’s up to.”

“Any ideas, Sarge?” the Doctor arched his eyebrow.

“Well, one or two,” Rose grinned.  



	3. Cuthbert Crofton

_Day 674_  
  
The next morning saw screaming headlines.

“Look at that!” Rose said.

Cuthbert Crofton was smiling charmingly from _The Guardian_ ’s crumpled front page that lay abandoned at a bus stop. Rose tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and came closer to pick up the paper. “‘Cuthbert Crofton, a scientist and entrepreneur, has gained widespread acclaim in academic circles for his proposal on collecting energy from the Cardiff spatial-temporal rift. Currently, Mister Crofton is waiting for the government to greenlight the project. Prince Andrew will become its patron in case of approval’,” Rose read.

“Members of the British royal family tend to socialise with questionable characters,” the Doctor muttered.

“We’ve got to do something!”

“Would you fancy an audience with the Queen’s son?”

“Oh no. Heard enough of ‘more oysters, Ma’am?’ to last me a lifetime!”

“Then we’ll have to talk to that Crofton chap. I think he’s not as thick as he appears, just a little blinded by his own intellect.”

“That does remind me of somebody...”

“I’ll have you know, Rose Tyler, that I’ve never tried to turn a ginormous unstudied anomaly inside out for a couple of quid,” the Doctor intoned. “Well! I suppose it’s time we visit UNIT. Maybe they know something about the doings of that Crofton fellow.”

“So you really had an honest-to-God job there? A full-time occupation with a lunch break and a paid holiday?” Rose asked. The idea seemed oddly amusing.

“Well I wouldn’t say it was that formal...” the Doctor tugged on his ear. “I didn’t actually have much say in the matter...”

Rose laughed. “You were taken prisoner or what?”

“More like exiled. UNIT and I haven’t been on the best terms ever since. I never really liked men with guns, but there was a time when they at least weren’t brandishing them.”  
  
The Doctor linked his hands behind his back and squinted at the too-warm September sun. It was still early, but most people had already hurried off to work, leaving the streets almost deserted.

“So you think UNIT will be able to help us?” Rose asked, strolling leisurely alongside the Doctor. Then her mobile beeped. “Oh, look! Jonathan managed to find Crofton’s address for us.”

The Doctor took a peek from behind her shoulder. “I don’t know about UNIT as a whole, but I suppose we can count on our new friend,” he grinned.

“Somebody’s got himself a fan,” Rose singsonged and poked him in the ribs.

When Crofton’s butler answered the door, his sour visage arranged itself into a frown once the Doctor flashed his psychic paper at him. Without further ado, he escorted the visitors to the drawing room and left to announce their arrival.

“What do you reckon he’s seen?” Rose asked, barely containing her laughter.

The Doctor shrugged. “No idea. But I hope there was something about a late breakfast. How have you survived on your mother’s cooking for so long?”

The confusion on his face was so sincere, that there was no way for Rose to get indignant. She opened her mouth for the next sarcastic remark, but the house owner entered the room at that very moment. He was dressed in black trousers and an evening shirt with cuff links. Somehow it was hard to picture him wearing anything less formal.

“You again!” Cuthbert exclaimed with obvious disappointment. “My butler said you were from the Ministry. What kind of a tale did you spin for him?”

“Are you expecting somebody, Mister Crofton?” the Doctor asked politely. “I hope we’re not interrupting anything important.”

“Get out of my house,” Crofton said coldly. “Didn’t you make a fool of yourself yesterday?”

“Oh, I’m afraid there’ll be nobody left to laugh, thanks to your project.”

“Who are you? Why are you spouting all that apocalyptic nonsense? Go build yourself a shelter or something!”

“I’m Rose and he’s the Doctor,” Rose chimed in, rising to her feet and placing herself instinctively between the men. “Please let us explain.”

Crofton rolled his eyes in resignation. “Only if that means you’ll leave me alone, so I can get back to by business.”  
  
He lowered himself into a chair opposite his visitors, locked his fingers together and leaned forwards slightly. His deeply wrinkled face didn’t make him look old at all: Crofton belonged to that sort of people who could’ve had a wrinkled face since childhood and it wouldn’t have aged them, but merely added to their charm.

“So what kind of essential knowledge do you wish to impart to me?”

“Mister Crofton,” the Doctor began, mirroring his pose. “You’ll need technology far beyond that available on Earth to study the rift in any serious manner. Nobody knows for sure what that rift is. It can lead to other parts of the galaxy, to another time or other dimensions. The very presence of such a large anomaly in time and space indicates danger.”

“How come you know so much about it?” Crofton asked with a spark of curiosity.

“It doesn’t matter. What really matters is that this idea is reckless and doesn’t justify the risk.”

“Reckless? How dare you!” Crofton exclaimed, pushing out of his chair in a burst of indignation. “Do you have any idea how much blood and sweat this project has cost me? Mankind is on the brink of a grand transition comparable to the likes of the Industrial Revolution. Fuel, electricity, wind power – all of it belongs to the past! And all that talk about possible dangers, all that overcompensation holds us back! ‘Reckless’...! You can’t imagine how much power we managed to collect into one single battery! When we go commercial, the rift will supply the whole planet and more.”

“And you’re doing that out of the kindness of your heart?” Rose asked snidely.

Cuthbert laughed. “Do I look like a hypocrite? I never said I was doing that for free. Most of the great advances have been achieved out of a desire for recognition or wealth. Well, one usually follows the other.”

“And what’s motivating you, Mister Crofton?” the Doctor asked.

“I’m not interested in being famous. Fame comes and goes. Well then, you have my thanks for your vigilance and concern, but there’s really nothing to worry about.”

“Cuthbert, just listen...”

“I think it’s time for you to leave. Lawrence!” The elderly butler appeared in the doorway. “Would you escort my guests outside, please.”

 “Any and all operations on the rift will only be widening it bit by bit!” the Doctor exclaimed angrily. “What happens to an earthquake crack if you go on drilling into it? And now imagine there’s a great big black hole sitting inside!”

“Your concerns are completely unfounded. The rift is much more delicate than the Earth crust, but _Proxima_ is treating it with the utmost care.”

When the door closed behind them, the Doctor shook himself as though he’d been showered in sand. “I take everything back. That Crofton’s a complete idiot!”

“Then we have to talk to somebody from the government, explain everything. Maybe they’ll listen,” Rose suggested.

“I can’t believe it! To travel across the galaxy for profit! The greed of your people must have made an impression on the whole universe,” the Doctor spat.

Rose frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“Cuthbert Crofton isn’t human,” he clarified more calmly. “He’s a very well-disguised alien. How come I didn’t realise! _Proxima,_ as in the Proxima Centauri System! It’s in the same galaxy. There are a couple of habitable planets. One of them resembles Earth, but isn’t as underdeveloped compared to this part of the universe.” The Doctor noticed Rose’s indignant stare. “What? I’m just stating the facts. Where do you think Crofton gets his technology from? Mankind won’t stumble across anything remotely similar in the next... well, let’s say until you get close enough to black holes. But let’s look on the bright side! Now it falls under UNIT’s jurisdiction! I think it’s time we met Colonel Coulson.”

The British UNIT Headquarters occupied one of the outer structures of the Tower, the one miraculously overlooked by tourists. It wasn’t the best location, but at least it was central London. Jonathan met the guests at the entrance and walked with them to the Colonel’s office. The heavy wooden door creaked, when the secretary slipped inside first.

“Colonel Coulston,” he said with an enigmatic smile, “I think you’ll want to meet these people. You won’t believe who’s here.”

The Doctor and Rose peeked inside with a little smile and waved hello.

The Colonel turned to look at them from behind his desk. He was a rather big balding man with a massive chin and tiny eyes behind round glasses. His cheeks wobbled at every movement, inadvertently making one think of an English bulldog, while his head kept moving all the time, as though he had difficulty keeping it in balance. All in all, he appeared to be quite harmless and a little dim.

“It’s the Doctor himself,” Jonathan announced proudly. “The one and only, with the capital D. And Miss Rose Tyler. You’re quite a celebrity here, Doctor.”

The Colonel’s cheeks wobbled some more at that. He made a move to stand, but his respectable leather chair didn’t budge so he ended up hovering mid-air. The Doctor came closer and shook his hand. Rose followed suit.

“Doctor! Ah, Doctor! That’s... an honour!” the Colonel stumbled over his words, casting a puzzled look at Jonathan in hope for a clue. “How delightful! I’ve heard so much about you.”

Coulson indicated for the visitors to sit down and sank heavily into his own chair. Jonathan perched on a window sill with arms crossed over his chest.

“How can I be of service?” the Colonel asked.

“You must have heard of Cuthbert Crofton,” the Doctor began and waited for a nod. “Rose and I had the pleasure to attend his presentation at Alexandra Palace yesterday, where we learned about his fascinating project, namely gaining energy from the Cardiff rift. Do you know anything about it?”

Coulson nodded cautiously and stole a glance at Jonathan. Beads of sweat began dripping from his forehead and cheeks, so he had to wipe his face with a large handkerchief.

“Yes, I received a letter to this effect from Mister Crofton,” he replied hesitantly.

The Doctor cleared his throat. “We’re concerned about safety matters. My impression is that Mister Crofton has no idea what he’s dealing with here. His experiments will cause the rift to widen and once it expands, it might swallow everything around it. And we’re talking hundreds of thousand miles here.”

“Have you tried talking to Mister Crofton directly?”

“He wouldn’t listen!” Rose exclaimed. “He’s so sure of himself and thinks all that is a lot of rubbish.”

“Well, as far as I know, he’s been experimenting with the rift for quite some time now. It’s a significant discovery,” Coulston said diplomatically. “If he’s so sure his project will work, then maybe he’s got scientific grounds for that.”

“That kind of energy can’t be harnessed!” the Doctor argued. “Even I don’t know how it would behave. Nobody’s ever studied such rifts thoroughly, but this kind of technology isn’t sufficient in any case.”

The Colonel wiped his neck. He was sweating profusely but didn’t think of removing his jacket. Apparently being drenched in sweat was something normal for him.

“Mister Crofton is yet to receive the government's approval,” he said.

“Just a matter of time.”

Rose interjected, “We’ve got to stop him before it’s too late!”

“But we can’t do anything without tangible evidence,” Coulson said.

“Isn’t the Doctor’s word enough of an evidence?!”

Leaning forward calmly, the Doctor clasped his hands together and rested them on the Colonel’s desk.

“What if we can provide the necessary evidence? What if I say that Cuthbert Crofton isn’t what he seems but an alien from Proxima-6? Would that make you doubt the nobility of his intentions?”

“An alien?” the Colonel furrowed his mostly grey eyebrows. “But he looks human enough!”

The Doctor and Rose exchanged a humorous look.

“Colonel,” said Jonathan, “the Doctor isn’t from our planet either.”

“Ah, right. But why are you so certain he’s not human?”

The Doctor rolled his eyes. “I haven’t heard so many inane questions since Mickey’s first day aboard the TARDIS,” he muttered under his breath. “For starters, he’s got greyish skin, contracted pupils, an extra skin layer beneath his nose and stubble above his cheekbones,” he rattled off the list. “I’d rather not go into further anatomical details. Believe me, you wouldn’t want to hear that.”

Coulson appeared to mull it over. “If you’re telling the truth, then I suppose we’ll be able to help – at the first sign of real trouble. Then it will fall under our jurisdiction. As of now, our hands are tied,” he said apologetically. “UNIT is on state funding and has very limited authority.”

“But when did that stop you!” the Doctor exclaimed.

“I’d really love to help, but – ”

“Fine. Just tell us where we can find his Cardiff laboratory.”

“Oh,” the Colonel exhaled and began rummaging in his drawers. “I’ve got it somewhere here...”

“Should I check my computer?” Jonathan asked.

“No need, I have it!” Coulson pushed his glasses up his nose, double-checked the address and handed the sheet of paper over. “Here you are. I hope it helps.”

“Thanks, Colonel.”

The Doctor took the address and shook Coulson’s plump hand. Jonathan walked the Doctor and Rose outside through the maze of corridors with low ceilings and countless doors.

“Please excuse the Colonel,” he said uncomfortably. “He’s an alright bloke, just a little, well, faint-hearted and thick-headed sometimes, especially when the government and high-ups are involved.”

“Not the best character for his position,” the Doctor said.

“Calmness is his asset, though. You know, there’s been more and more paranormal stuff on Earth lately lately and we don’t want anybody to panic.”

“Paranormal? UNIT’s got a Ghostbusters department now or what? There’s no such thing as paranormal. Everything can be explained by science.”

“Well, you’re right, but a lot of people still struggle with the acceptance of sentient life on other planets.”

“Sometimes I struggle with the acceptance of sentient life on Earth,” Rose rolled her eyes.

The Doctor shook his head. “You humans never cease to amaze me. You keep dreaming of stars and space travel for centuries, but stick your head in the sand at the very first opportunity to learn more about it all.”

Jonathan said thoughtfully, “Maybe not everybody’s ready just yet.”

“Alright. We’ll go to Cardiff and try to find out how our friend’s project’s doing.”

“Let me know if you need any help.”

Meanwhile back in the office, the Colonel dialled an internal extension. “Yes, Abbot? Please come and see me. I want you to make sure nobody’s giving Mister Crofton any trouble in Cardiff.”


	4. Lies, Dreams and Ginger Nuts

When the TARDIS materialised in Cardiff Bay, none of the passers-by paid it any attention despite the noise. The Doctor stuck out his head to look around, then stepped outside and patted the blue door affectionately.

“Either the perception filter has been acting up earlier, or that Mrs Morgan of yours is in possession of truly unique abilities.”

“I wouldn’t put my money on the second option,” Rose drawled.

But the Doctor was already off towards the square. He paused in front of the Ivor Novello statue, shielded his eyes and looked it over like an old friend. “Too long since we’ve been here last, eh? The TARDIS won’t mind a pit stop. It’s a twofer!”

“Look at that!” called Rose.

A tall fence on the other side of the bay, across from the lone building of the Norwegian Church, made a poor job of hiding a busy construction site.

“That’s the place?” Rose double-checked the address.

The Doctor bounced on the balls of his feet, hands in pockets, frowning in the bright daylight.

“Our man’s got cash. Come on, let’s snoop around a bit.”

The summer had already gone but the bay was full of people drawn out by the gentle warmth of the September sun. Very little had changed since the Doctor and Rose’s last visit, although the booths selling bay cruises might have increased in number across the length of the quay.

Patrons of quaint little restaurants were laughing, chatting away noisily and stepping with their drinks in hand over the demarcation beyond which no drinks were allowed. A mixture of delighted children’s squeals and worried mothers’ admonishments was coming from the direction of the Pierhead Carousel. Businessmen in sharp suits were at risk of being mown down by lanky skateboarders when exiting the Senedd. All in all, the citizens of Cardiff had all the reasons to feel like they were living in the centre of the universe.

However, the short and skinny guard positioned at the entrance to the construction site didn’t share the good mood. He pushed the gate open a crack, gave the visitors a once-over and demanded to see their IDs. The Doctor made a show of going through his pockets until he fished out his psychic paper and presented it to the guard with an awfully accommodating smile. Satisfied, the guard nodded and retreated to his booth.

A few minutes later they spotted a construction worker in dirty dark-brown overalls who was almost skipping towards them with a massive folder in his hand.  
  
“Mister Ellingham, Miss Brown!” he exclaimed worriedly, barely catching his breath. “What a surprise. We haven’t expected you until the next week.”

“We had a few spare minutes and decided to get on with it,” the Doctor said vaguely.

The foreman faltered. “The thing is... we’re not quite ready for the inspection yet. I can show you all the papers, but we’ll need a little bit more time to prepare everything,” he said meekly. “Besides, Mister Stevens isn’t going to be on site today.”

“Well, we just wanted to have a look around, that’s all. Get the feel for how the construction work is advancing, that sort of thing. I see your client isn’t exactly going for cheap and dirty?” the Doctor asked, craning his neck to take in the height of a gloomy box-like building whose architect was obviously impartial to anything excessive.

“The client’s going to expand quickly, so we aimed to take all the future needs into account. Some of the rooms are still empty, but they’ll be used for storage in near future. The equipment is taking up a lot of space too...”

“Would’ve been easier if you had the fifth dimension, right?” Rose smiled.

The foreman answered with a small uncertain smile of his own. He took the visitors through the building, showing them every nook and cranny as they went – beginning with the offices and finishing with empty storages and halls full of unpacked boxes. They inspected fire escape routes, fire extinguishers as well as first aid kits meticulously and learned way too much about compulsory safety training courses for employees.

Finally, Rose who’d already been fidgeting for about ten minutes blurted out, “So where are your laboratories?”

The foreman frowned, “Laboratories?”

“Yeah, we’d love to see them,” said the Doctor.

“But they’ve got no laboratories, sir.”

The Doctor and Rose exchanged a puzzled glance.

“How do you mean?”

“Why would they need any?” the foreman laughed. “We’re building a toy factory!” He realized that his explanation puzzled the visitors even more and produced a dusty file from his folder.

“Look, here,” he said, suddenly earnest. “Contractor: Ewan Stevens, toy factory, Porth Teigr, Cardiff. What did you expect to find?”

“There must have been a mix-up...” the Doctor said and darted a meaningful glance at Rose.

***

Colonel Coulston almost jumped out of his chair when a police box suddenly appeared in his UNIT office. When a frazzled alien barrelled out of it, it became clear that his day at work wouldn’t end in any respectable manner.

“We’ve been to Cardiff!” the Doctor announced. “And you know what we’ve found there? A toy soldier and a stuffed pony! They’re building a toy factory there, not a secret lab to extract super-doo-dangerous energy!”

Coulston reared back a little, eyeing warily the Doctor’s clenched fists propped on his desk.

“Doctor? Miss Tyler? How come you’re here?” he asked, surprised.

“It’s the dematerialisation circuit, which allows the TARDIS to disappear and reappear at any point in time and space. JK Rowling would call it apparition. But back to the point...”

The Colonel shifted uncomfortably. “Mister Crofton must have given me the wrong address by accident,” he said.

“It’s sort of strange – starting a business without knowing its location,” Rose snorted.

“But how is it my fault? I can try to contact Mister Crofton and clarify this issue if that would further your investigation.”

The Doctor leaned over the desk, coming nose to nose with Coulston, who seemed perpetually perplexed. “Listen to me, Colonel. I don’t know what’s going on here but I don’t like it. And when I don’t like something, it usually comes to an end really quickly. I’ve no idea what kind of promises Cuthbert Crofton made, but I assure you that you’ll end up with far less profit from this enterprise than you expect.”

The Colonel straightened his back and shoulders and suddenly looked even bigger. His face now wore the supercilious expression, usually seen on very big men in very high positions.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked coldly. “Do you know where you are? It’s an international military base and not a circus. Do you think we’ve got time to deal with day-dreaming scientists who – according to day-dreaming aliens – pose threat to everything on Earth?”

“Don’t you get it?” Rose exploded. “Crofton isn’t going to wait for any permission, he’s working on that project already now! Why won’t you help us?”

The Doctor pushed off the desk in disappointment and stepped back. “Forget it, Rose. Colonel Coulson apparently doesn’t understand that he too will pay with his hide if that plan of Crofton’s doesn’t pan out. We’re done here. No sense in forcing anybody to accept our help.”

He turned around, put his hands in his pockets and headed for the TARDIS. Rose turned up her nose and followed him, having shot the Colonel one last glare.

Coulston hesitated for a long moment. Finally, when his uninvited visitors were already by the door, he lifted his bulk out of the chair a little and called nervously, “Doctor!” He proceeded to chew on his lower lip then said as formally as he could manage, “How certain are you that Mister Crofton’s plan is doomed to fail?”

The Doctor smiled widely. “That’s the right attitude for a chat.”

***

Rose’s bedroom had been filled with so much stuff in a matter of days that Jackie couldn’t help wondering whether it had acquired a fifth dimension – just like the Doctor’s ship. Her clothes seemed reasonable in quantity when stored in the wardrobe, but now they turned into a veritable mountain range stretching from the bed right to the door handle. When Rose tried to find a few long-forgotten pieces, her room became an unpassable and frankly dangerous zone.

The room occupier, however, seemed perfectly at ease and pleased with herself among all that chaos. The Doctor picked his way towards the dresser, where Rose was sitting with full make up, wearing jeans and a colourful top, and dreaded to think what her room aboard the TARDIS must look like.

“Are you absolutely certain it’s necessary?” he drawled, perching on the window sill. “We’ve got tons of stuff to do! We could actually – ”

“Get off it, it’s just one night! Shareen hates it that I never visit. She says I can get lost if I skip this do.”

“But that’s marvellous! We have our hands full anyway. We could try to get into Crofton’s house and – ”

“Doctor!” Rose laughed. “Shareen and I have been friends since our first day at school! Don’t you think it would be strange if I tried to avoid her on my rare visits?”

“Well, no, if that would help you avoid questions...”

Rose narrowed her eyes and dead panned, “You know, you could join us.”

The Doctor’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline. “Me?” he squeaked. “You surely know that all those parties and meet ups with friends don’t really go with nine hundred years of space and time travel. It’s Christmas dinners first, but what then? I’ll probably end up putting up shelves for Jackie Tyler.”

“Speaking of which, she’s got nobody to help her since Mickey got stuck in the parallel universe,” Rose reminded innocently.

“Don’t start!” the Doctor reared. “Sofas need to be carried to living rooms, dishwashers need to be repaired, family dinners need to be attended. How can you live with all this... flim-flam!”

“Yeah, that boring life of Earthlings...” Rose nodded, cupping her hand over her mouth with a mock gasp.

Then there was somebody at the door.

“Must be Shareen!”

“Yeah? Well, then I’ll pop by Crofton’s on my own. With a bit of luck, I might even get inside the house.”

“You’re making me miss all the fun.”

“I did suggest from the very beginning that we break and enter together!”

“Sounds romantic,” Rose grinned.

A whirlwind of thick black hair barraged into the flat even before Rose could open the door properly. The level of accompanying noise suggested it was at least three girls instead of one. Rose managed only a strangled squawk when Shareen squeezed her in a deadly grip.

“I can’t believe it, Tyler! I totally expected just another brush-off!” she screamed in a thicker Cockney than Rose’s and Jackie’s. Then Shareen let go and took a step back to look her friend over from head to toe. “Is it me or have you gained a couple of pounds since you’ve been here last? You should lay off the chips – or whatever it is you’re getting served during your ‘travels’.”

Rose rolled her eyes. “Glad to see you too.”

“Chips? Who said chips?” the Doctor peeked into the hall.  
  
“I’ll be damned!” said Shareen. “The famous Doctor himself! Won’t you introduce me?”

Rose smiled self-consciously. “Shareen, Doctor. Doctor, Shareen.” She stepped aside so that her friend could shake the Doctor’s hand enthusiastically.

“Do you always wear suits and ties?” Shareen asked coyly.

“I try to be no more than a century out of fashion.”

“I like him,” Shareen approved in a stage whisper and turned her appraising eye back to the man. “Look, there’s obviously dress code and a guest list, but would you fancy to come along? It’ll be fun, we could get to know each other better. Rose never tells me anything.”

The Doctor cleared his throat. “Well, actually I was about to leave. Have some business to finish. It was nice meeting you, Shareen. Have fun without me.” He then said to Rose, “I’ll be on the TARDIS when I come back.”

“Shareen and I were thinking pyjama party later. I’ll pop by Mum’s first thing in the morning and then come to find you.”

“Okay. I’ll try not to die of boredom in the meantime.”

Their old mate’s flat happened to be in the same high-rise where Shareen lived with her parents and her little brother. It was just a few streets away from the Powell Estate and closer to their old school than Jackie’s.

Rose barely remembered the names of their old chums and would have lost contact with most of them if not for Shareen who apparently knew everything about everybody in Peckham. It was through Shareen that Rose had met Jimmy Stone. Their short-lived happiness had ended in tears only a half year later through the same Shareen’s penchant for gossip.  
  
Rose’s friend did finish school but had otherwise very little ambition. She was a beautician at John Lewis on Oxford Street, and her family thought it the highest possible achievement career-wise. Her pay was enough for make up, trendy clothes and a weekend in Paris with her mates once or twice a year. Everything else was deemed unimportant and not worth the trouble.

Music was filtering out from the half-opened door on the second floor. It wasn’t hard to find the host – he was standing in the hall with four beers in his hands, already tipsy and arguing with somebody. Shareen made a beeline for him, dragging Rose by her hand.

“Hey Bart, look who’s here!”

The young man, who probably looked his twenty-two when sober and shaven, turned around to look at Rose. “That you, Tyler? I thought you were abducted by aliens. Where have you been?”

“Well, actually your guess isn’t too much off,” Rose sniggered.

“Wha...?” Bart goggled at her, his alcohol-addled brain not ready to take in so many words. However, he immediately lost his interest and didn’t demand any explanations. “Look, girls, take this back to the kitchen, will you?”

Having dumped his beer bottles, he hurried to the door that had been nudged open by a stack of pizza boxes, presumably carried by a delivery man. Rose and Shareen just shrugged.

The party had been in full swing for quite some time, judging by the piles of dirty plates and empty cans. The guests had been left to their own devices and had but a tenuous grip on reality already. The music was loud but bearable in the hall, however, it made conversation impossible in the room. Shareen pulled a face and demonstratively covered her ears with her hands.

“Bart’s surprised because we were talking about you all evening last time,” she shouted over the pounding rhythm. “Paul, that’s Jimmy’s cousin, was there too...”

“What?”

“I say Paul, Jimmy’s cousin, was there... Ah, screw that, let’s dance.”

Rose sighed in relief and followed her to the middle of the littered living room where a few of the less inebriated people were dancing.

Shareen had always been naturally gifted and moved beautifully, despite having taken no dancing lessons at all. She’d turn all heads on every dance floor, no matter how short other girls’ skirts. It’d sort of bothered Rose until they were sixteen. Then she’d met Jimmy and decided on being a faithful life companion, sparing no glances for other blokes. Mickey had always had a hoot at that because she never cared about her reputation when they were together, both before and after Jimmy Stone.

But there were rarely heads to turn at Bart’s dos. The fridge was always stocked with cold beer and his mates turned from potential heartbreakers to slobbering drunks in the space of two bottles despite years and years of exhaustive training. Only girls were still dancing that night, too. One of them was clinging to a bloke for dear life – either to keep herself steady or to prevent him from wandering off.

Rose still couldn’t get used to the loud music. It felt like a hammer to the head even after a long time in the room. _Getting old_ , she smiled to herself.

Shareen must have picked up on Rose’s discomfort and her anxious glances. She grabbed her hand and pointed first towards her own ears and then in the direction of the kitchen. Rose nodded eagerly.

The kitchen was surprisingly empty but for a podgy bloke who’d been having a tete-a-tete with a pizza box and retreated the moment he was disturbed. When the door closed behind him, the music level became bearable again.

“These parties are so exhausting when you’re sober,” Shareen complained. She pulled a half-full wine bottle from the fridge and poured them two glasses. They were sitting on the tabletop, dangling their feet. “We should’ve come sooner, before everybody got wasted.”

“I’ve totally forgotten what Bart’s dos can turn into,” laughed Rose.

“That’s nothing. The real fun begins in a couple of hours. We’ve got to beat it before everything gets covered in sick.”

Rose cringed. Shareen took a sip of her wine and put her glass down, turning to Rose with determination.

“Spill it,” she grinned knowingly. “He’s pretty hot, all smart and nerdy. Where did you find him?”

Rose sniggered. “You wouldn’t have called him nerdy if you’d met him back then.”  
  
“So, how old is he? Thirty? Thirty-five? It’s such an age gap! Aren’t you bothered that he’ll be an old man before you even retire?”

“Why would such things bother me?” Rose frowned.

“Well, if it’s serious between the two of you...”

“Why do you think it’s serious?”

Shareen waved her off. “Don’t give me that bull, girlfriend. I can see right through you.”

“We’re just travelling together.”

“For two and a half years? That’s enough for a world tour!”

“The Doctor, well... He’s an anthropologist of sorts. So we travel around, look at... stuff.”

“Where does his stupid nickname come from anyway? D’you always call him like that?”

“It’s just his name,” Rose shrugged self-consciously.

“Ain’t he got a normal one?”

“What’s wrong with the one he has?” Rose bristled.

Shareen shook her head. “Do you know a lot of blokes who call themselves Doctor, Accountant, Policeman? It’s not really normal, is it?”

“Dunno. Never thought about it.”

“So you’ve been together with him for two years and never thought to ask about his name?”

“We’re not together!” Rose exploded.

She slid off the tabletop, put her wine glass aside and folded her hands across her chest. She always gesticulated a lot when upset and wasn’t able to lie or pretend because of that. Jackie, Mickey and Shareen could see right through her with such an ease that her inability to embellish the truth even a little had always stung more than her lost secrets.

“I’m telling you we’re just travelling together, that’s all.”

“Travelling, travelling...” Shareen mocked. “That’s all I ever hear from you. Sometimes you disappear for a year, sometimes you pop by all mysterious and can’t explain anything. Can’t even tell me the name of your boyfriend, as though it’s the greatest mystery in the universe!”

“He’s not my boyfriend!” protested Rose.

Shareen hopped off the table, unable to remain seated. “Yeah, he’s just that bloke with who you’ve been disappearing for two years. And when you visit for once, you still spend all your time with him. I don’t recognize you, Tyler. All that secrecy and evasiveness and self-importance! What’s got into you!”

“Self-importance?”

“Ain’t it so? We were thick as thieves at school, but now I look at you and you’re a different person. You’ve got a brush-off for every question, like you’re with MI-6 and we all are way beneath you. Anthropologist, my arse! Name five countries in Africa, quick.”

“What’s wrong with you?” Rose shook her head.

“What’s wrong with me? You’ve changed. I’ve no idea what is it you’ve been doing during your ‘travels’ with that bloke, but you’re not Rose Tyler any more. Not the Rose Tyler that I used to know, anyway.”

“Shareen, that’s stupid!” Rose protested with vehemence.

“You think so? Is it stupid to wanna know where the hell you are, why I can’t ring you up, why you can never explain anything? Or are we not permitted to ask any more and have to simply rejoice over your appearance?”

“I’ve never said that.”

“You don’t need to say such things, they’re kind of obvious!”

Rose turned away and said softly, “I’m sorry. It was wrong of me to come and start this conversation. I’ll just go. We’ve really got tons of things to do.”

“Oh shit. Where are you off to, Tyler?”

Rose was almost in tears when she left the party, ignoring a drunken shout. It was a cold night, and she had to run most of the way to the estate across empty Peckham streets.

When she entered the TARDIS, the Doctor was hunched over the controls in his usual manner, studying the readouts. She’d hesitated for a second, unsure whether to go to her flat or the TARDIS, but the matter resolved itself as soon as she saw the blue box.

The Doctor heard the door creaking and turned around. His sixth sense – or more accurately his jealous uneasiness – had served him well. He’d thought about skipping the night and reappearing in the morning, just in time for his companion to finish her mundane socialising and delight him with her presence, but had abandoned the idea before stepping into the control room.

“Rose? But the pyjama party...” Then he saw her slumped shoulders and puffy eyes. “Rose?” he repeated uncertainly, closing the distance between them in two big strides. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah. I just wanted to leave.”

The Doctor studied her face for a long moment and Rose cracked under his questioning gaze.

“Why is it so hard to explain stuff to people?” she asked, leaning against a coral strut. “Why do they always want to know everything?”

The Doctor sighed, understanding where it was heading. However, Rose stopped him before he could say “I told you so”.

“Shareen kept asking about our adventures and about you,” she explained, hugging herself. “What was I supposed to tell her? That I go to space in a police box?”

“She must be worried about you.”

“Yeah, probably.”

“So... you’ve had a row?”

“You can say so. I can’t keep her in the dark forever, can I? It was bound to happen at some point,” she said, looking up at the Doctor with a sad smile.

He shuffled his feet. He never deemed himself an expert on human relationships or attachments, especially when it came to friends versus space travel, but Rose wasn’t really expecting him to answer. Still hugging herself, she came closer and rested her head on his chest. The Doctor flinched a little but embraced her tightly without hesitation.

“Let’s have our own party with early twenty-first-century television and biscuits,” Rose said.

“Well, we’ve got neither, but I saw both TV and biscuits at your mother’s.”

“Well then, come on.”

Rose threaded her fingers through his and pulled him outside. The flat’s windows were dark and the door was locked twice, which must have been an act of admirable vigilance from the otherwise sloppy Jackie. They entered carefully and tip-toed to the living room, trying not to disturb her sleep.

Rose spread a large blanket on the floor and brought tea and a cookie jar from the kitchen. They made themselves comfortable on the blanket, leaning against sofa cushions and stretching out their legs. Something black and white, post-World War and very patriotic was on but they muted the sound and Rose couldn’t hear a thing.

“I love-love-looove ginger nuts!” the Doctor exclaimed in delight. “This is the real reason I’m so fond of Jackie – her impeccable taste in biscuits! Well, those with choco drops and bourbon filling are alright too, but nothing on earth can compare to ginger nuts!”

Rose laughed. “So, have you been to Crofton’s?”

The Doctor tried to reply with his mouth full of two cookies but gave up on this idea right away. “I have, and rather successfully too,” he said at last. “That dimwit keeps a ton of sensitive files in his desk, simply hoping that no-one can read Valrian runes.”

“Yeah, that’s a rookie mistake,” Rose smiled.

“Exactly what I thought! The house was empty, so I figure Crofton’s currently in Cardiff, at his ultra-secret lab. That chap’s got a base on five different planets including Proxima-6. As far as I gathered from his files, none of them is operational yet.”

“What’s stopping him?”

“I hope we’ll find out tomorrow. He decided to start with the Earth for some reason. Your planet is like a natural magnet for trouble!” the Doctor sniffed. “Take Kepler-186f. It’s a wonderful place, the best! It’s got it all – water, atmosphere, comfy temperature and, more importantly, not a single soul for the next two hundred years – but no, he has to go and start his experiments in the middle of billions of people on Earth.”

“So what are we going to do?”

“We’ve got to get into his lab. I need to see up close how his machine works. And we can still hope Coulson is smart enough to listen to us. Otherwise, we can always go to Kepler and give him a fright with a tiny accidental explosion.”

“Labs tend to explode on their own anyway, right?” grinned Rose.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying!” the Doctor nodded.

Rose snuggled deeper into the blanket and wrapped her hands around her still steaming mug. He frowned – the air didn’t seem to be cold at all, not even for humans.

“Doctor... I’ve been having this dream...” she began.

“Which dream?” he sat up.

Rose laughed, a little embarrassed. “I know it’s stupid, but it doesn’t leave me be. It’s about Krop Tor...” She bit her lip and didn’t know how to continue, but the Doctor waited patiently. “Do you remember what the Beast said? ‘The valiant child who will die in battle’.” She smiled uneasily. “It’s not that I think I’m gonna die or anything. It’s just that I can’t get rid of this voice in my head ever since we left the Sanctuary Base.”

The Doctor turned serious. “He was mistaken, Rose. There had to be no way for us to leave that planet anyway, but here we are, alive and kicking despite all the laws of the universe. We’re safe and sound and in your mother’s living room, munching away at biscuits.”

“But everything else he’d said was correct...”

“So he must have lied about you.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” She stretched and yawned. “Anyway, I’m so knackered that I want to sleep no matter the dreams.”

“I can make the nightmares go away,” said the Doctor.

Rose turned to him, more curious about his proclamation than the possible consequences. “What, seriously? Like with magic?”

“It’s not _Harry Potter_ , Rose. Everything can be explained from a scientific point of view.”

“So you’re going to perform scientific wonders for the sake of my beauty sleep?” she grinned.

The Doctor reached out and tucked a stray lock of her hair carefully behind her ear, brushing his thumb against her temple. “Just believe me that these nightmares won’t come back.”

“I feel like an eight year old.”

“Eight or one hundred eight... Same difference on the scale of the universe,” the Doctor supplied philosophically.

“Same goes for nine hundred, on the scale of the universe, of course,” Rose grinned deviously.

“Somebody’s about to become a leading cosmologist?”

“I’ve got plenty of experience in the field.”

The Doctor frowned in mock indignation and ended up looking funny instead of cross.

“No credit for your patient tutor?”

“Well, he’s the best guide in the universe,” Rose added with a smile.


	5. Quick Guide on Getting into Trouble

_Day 675_  
  
Furious Cuthbert Crofton was pacing the UNIT director’s office like a caged animal, so fast that his whiskey almost splashed at every turn. Colonel Coulson was seated in one of the chairs facing the director’s and was following the angry visitor’s movements with a watchful eye. His tumbler remained on the desk untouched.

“What are you on about, Colonel!” Cuthbert’s outrage coloured his face pale orange. “I thought we had a deal!”

“Indubitably, Mister Crofton!” the Colonel hurried to assure him. “I merely pointed out that we could be a little more cautious – ”

“Who do you think I am, Coulson?!” Crofton’s tumbler banged on the desk together with his meaty fist. The whiskey splashed out at last. The Colonel flinched and shrunk in his chair. Crofton righted his posture indignantly and was calm a mere moment later.

His frightened counterpart tried to insist on the correct use of his title. “Actually it’s ‘Colonel Coul – ”

“Do shut up,” Cuthbert waved him off.

Shocked by such disrespect, Coulson nevertheless didn’t dare argue with the visitor, so he was just sat there, gaping in silent indignation like a fish.

“How come you’re suddenly so interested in the world’s welfare, Colonel?” asked Crofton. “I seem to remember that you didn’t worry about the apocalypse as long as your palm was being greased.”

“Please listen to me, there are valid reasons for concern.”

Cuthbert eyed him tiredly. “And your reason for concern is that moron who gate-crashed my presentation and forced his way into my house? Have you had a good look at him? He’s positively looney.”

“With all due respect,” Coulson said diplomatically, “There’s something you don’t know about the Doctor. He used to be a scientific advisor with UNIT. And when I say ‘used to be’, I mean about forty years ago.”

Crofton turned to him, intrigued, and raised an eyebrow. This encouragement gave the Colonel some confidence back, so he went on.

“I’ve never met him before, but UNIT used to be very indebted to the Doctor back in the day.” He shifted around in the chair, bringing his bulk into a more comfortable position. “Have you ever – ”

But Crofton interrupted him impatiently, “How is it possible? He’s not human?”

“No, he isn’t. He calls himself a Time Lord. As far as I know, he’s from the planet Gallifrey.”

“Well, well, well,” drawled Cuthbert. Pieces of the puzzle began coming together as a fairly coherent plan in his head, so he barely heard what the Colonel went on about for the next two minutes.

“...therefore I suppose it’s not unfounded – ”

“Listen, Colonel,” said Crofton. “What if we ask your resident genius to, uhm, assist us? If he’s so worried about this world’s safety, maybe he has an idea on how to ensure it?”

Coulson shifted uncomfortably. “I’m afraid that’s not easy. The Doctor strongly objects any and all manipulations with the rift.”

“But Colonel, you’re such a clever man in such a high position,” Cuthbert crooned sweetly. “Be inventive. We could make use of the young and beautiful Miss Tyler.”

The Colonel looked at him askance. Crofton cocked his head, trying to gauge whether the Colonel was really so slow on the uptake.

“Come on, where’s your keenness of wit? Don’t you think she and the Doctor seem rather close?”

“You suggest we ask Miss Tyler to persuade him?”

Crofton facepalmed himself. “Should I ever happen to be in Geneva, I’ll pay the General Staff a visit. I’m really curious how they appoint their officers. No, Coulson! Have you never heard of blackmail?”

The Colonel smiled widely, as it apparently dawned on him. A sincere smile was an infrequent exercise for him, so it looked somehow crooked.

“I think I know where you’re going with this,” he said as if to his childhood confidante.

Cuthbert shrugged. “I’m glad to hear that. I trust UNIT can capture the two of them easily? Otherwise, they’ll plunge the base into chaos if left to their own devices. None of us would like to see that happen, now would we, Colonel?”

“I completely – ”

“Excellent,” Crofton interrupted him. “I have to go. I’m almost late for my meeting with Garrett Playton.”

When the visitor left, the Colonel drained his glass in one gulp. He usually didn’t drink before noon, but the bitterly burning liquid merely scratched his throat and disappeared without any effect somewhere around his stomach. He pressed the intercom button and bent down to say, “Jonathan, my boy... Would you ask Abbot to see me?”

***

The Doctor wasn’t around, when Rose woke up on the duvet in her own bed. Bright light filtered through the window, so it must have been around noon. Rose yawned, stretched and sat up. It had been a while since she’d slept so well. Monsters and black holes, the unbidden images of her nightmares, seemed to have backed off this time. She changed quickly and left the room.

In the kitchen, Jackie was engaged in a full-scale fight against her washing machine.

“I have a feeling it’ll break down real soon and who’ll be there to fix it? Your alien boy’s no help and the handymen rip people off all the time! You pay as if connecting Windsor Castle to the water supply!”

“Don’t they have running water yet?” asked Rose sleepily, reaching for the kettle, with her eyes still mostly closed.

“They probably do but that’s beside the point! The flat’s falling apart and the bills keep fluttering in. I almost had a stroke when I saw the electricity bill last month! And it’s going to be winter soon. Can you imagine the gas prices? If nothing changes, we’ll be glad to switch to that Crofton bloke’s batteries.”

“I hope it won’t come to that,” said Rose, choosing not to go into details of the alien scientist’s work with her mum. She spread a liberal amount of butter and jam on her toast, grabbed her mug and sat down at the table.

“Not an early bird, huh,” her mother said.

Rose yawned. “The last planet we visited had a thirty-six-hour day. My body’s in agony.”

“Almost like you’re back from Australia, what with the time zones and stuff,” Jackie supplied sagely.

“But you’ve never been to Australia.”

“I’m still not an idiot, though!” Jackie huffed.

“I’m sorry, mum, I didn’t mean that.”

“Your dad and I travelled a lot after the wedding, by the way.”

That got Rose’s attention. They hadn’t mention Pete since that time the Doctor had got stranded on the Game Station. Rose didn’t want to tell her mother about meeting his double in the parallel universe, to spare her unnecessary pain and the details of that particular adventure.

“North Wales, Lake District, Highlands...” Jackie went on dreamily. “We rented a minivan and went everywhere. We even took a ferry from Liverpool to Belfast.”

“You’ve never told me.”

Jackie kicked the washing machine in frustration. “Useless piece of junk,” she muttered and turned back to Rose. “Well, I couldn’t have known you’d get itchy feet. By the way, the Doctor popped by when you were asleep. I wanted to wake you up, but he said he’d come over later.” Jackie looked at her watch. “That was a while ago now, actually.”

“He’s probably on the TARDIS,” said Rose. “I’ll go to him in a minute.”

“You can’t have a day’s rest, the two of you! You step out of that box, and the first thing you ask is whether there’s any trouble you can get into!”

Rose laughed. “It was meant as a precautionary measure.”

“A precautionary measure!” Jackie rolled her eyes. “You’ll die of boredom if there’s no alien invasion or the end of the world!”

“Oh, here’s the Doctor!” Rose said, when there was a loud knock on the door.

Jackie merely shook her head when her daughter dashed off.

However, it wasn’t the Time Lord at the door but two uniformed policemen.

“Oh! Good morning,” Rose said in confusion. “Is anything the matter?”

“Are you Rose Tyler?” one of the policemen asked.

“Yes, how can I – ” But she wasn’t allowed to finish.

“We arrest you on suspicion of fraud, forgery and unwarranted intrusion.”

“What?” Rose’s eyes went wide.

Jackie peeped round the corner at the same time. “What’s going on?” she asked testily.

“Miss Tyler, please come with us to the police station.”

“Hold on a minute, there must be a misunderstanding!” Rose argued.

“We’ll run a check once we’re there.”

“What have you got yourself into?” shrieked Jackie when one of the police officers put his hands on Rose’s shoulders and pushed her through the door. “Why can’t a day go by without you getting into trouble?”

“It’s gonna be alright, mum. Must be a misunderstanding, I’m sure it’ll be cleared up really soon.”

“I hope so, Miss Tyler,” said the policeman. “Please come with us.”

She lost all hope of being freed soon when the Doctor waved excitedly from the police car – with his right hand, because the left one had been handcuffed to the door.

“I sort of hoped you managed to evade justice and were about to rescue me from the police station,” Rose said.

“They got me on your doorstep!” the Doctor complained as though that detail was particularly unbelievable and unlawful.

Rose rolled her eyes when the handcuffs clicked for her, too. “You didn’t have to bother, it’s not like I’m going to jump out of the moving car!”

The officer eyed him warily but didn’t say anything.

“What do you think it’s all about?” Rose asked, turning towards the Doctor.

“Well... apparently we’ve stepped on somebody’s toes.”

“But what about Coulson? I thought he promised to talk to him! Do you think he went into reverse?”

The Doctor scratched his cheek in thought. “Coulson is greedy, but he’s a coward first and foremost. I wouldn't write him off just yet.”

“Then what’s going on?”

“We’ll find out any moment. I think somebody will tell us really soon.”

Rose and the Doctor couldn’t say that their arrival stirred up things at the station. To the contrary, they’d been ignored for almost an hour, as though they’d spent a while in the holding cell among hookers and junkies and managed to blend in perfectly. At last, a beady-eyed officer deigned to get a start on their paperwork.

Rose was shifting from foot to foot nervously, while the Doctor was trying to talk their way out of trouble. However, the officer couldn’t be coaxed, urged or persuaded. In fact, he didn’t lift his eyes from the forms until he finished scribbling in them.

“We’re allowed one phone call, right?” the Doctor asked, impatient.

The policeman sighed tiredly. “I’d put it to good use and call my lawyer if I were you.”

“I’ve got a better idea,” the Doctor winked and went on to vigorously spin the dial of the old-fashioned telephone.

Rose cocked her head, watching him closely.

“Hello Jonathan, my dear friend,” the Doctor began with grandeur. “I’m afraid we might need your boss’s help. What? We’re, er... at a police station. Long story. Forgery, impersonating authority,” the Doctor’s face turned sour, as though he had to give a full account of things trivial and unimportant, “Not worth mentioning, really. Could have happened to anyone. By the way, Colonel Coulson must have known about our yesterday’s mischief.”

The Doctor half-turned to the police officer, covered the receiver with his palm and said in a conspiratorial whisper, “That’s our friend Jonathan. He’s with UNIT.”

Then he proceeded to speak into the phone, “I take it you can help us clear it up? Yeah, the sooner the better, we’ve got loads of stuff to do. Thanks. The station?”

The Doctor turned to the officer again. “Which station is it?”

“Wood Street,” the officer answered, rolling his eyes.

“Wood Street! It’s just round the corner from you. A walking distance, really. Walking would do the Colonel good, you can tell him I said that. Alright, we’re waiting.”

“Can he help?” Rose asked anxiously.

“He promised to come as soon as he can.”

“So, now to lock you up again, until Inspector Faraday is back to decide what to do with you.”

Their new accommodation was far from clean and even farther from comfortable. Rose squatted on the bench, leaning her head against the wall and half-watching the zippy ginger teen who shared their cell. He’d been trying to flog something to a huge but harmlessly looking inmate, asking a sleepy hooker to vouch for his character for no apparent reason.

A beefy guard sauntered by the cell at five-minute intervals with the precision of a Swiss watch. He’d tell the teen to stuff it and then walk off down the dark corridor, jingling with the key ring. The hooker tried to ask about her case a couple of times but in such a poor English with an affected French accent on top that it was barely comprehensible.

“We’ve never been imprisoned on Earth before. It’s a first,” sighed Rose.

“There’s a first time for everything!” the Doctor said excitedly. “I’ve got to admit that this cell is better than on Yore. Forget Yore, some planets’ hotels can only dream about such level of comfort!”

“It’s just that I’ve no idea how they could find us in the first place.”

“And pretty quickly, too...”

They both jumped to their feet when a door opened at the far end of the corridor. It was Jonathan, accompanied by a police officer.

“There you are!” The Doctor was mid-stride to leave the cell when he noticed a worried look on Jonathan’s face.

“I’ve just spoken to the Captain. I said you were on official UNIT business, but he still can’t let you go without charging you formally first.”

“They should get a move on, then!” Rose frowned.

The Doctor nodded. “Yeah, we’ve just had a stroll around the factory and a look-see in our mutual friend’s house. Found a lot of interesting stuff, by the way.”

“It’s really odd. But I think I know what’s behind all this.”

The Doctor came up to the cell’s door and gripped the bars. “If Crofton’s machines start operating at their full capacity, the consequences can become catastrophic very soon,” he said gravely. “He’s using the Earth as his test ground. We need to get out of here and put a stop to it.”

“He’s met Garrett Playton today,” Jonathan said, biting his lip in thought and then adding hurriedly for the sake of the infrequent visitors who might be not acquainted with the UK’s home affairs, “That’s our Energy Secretary.”

“Crofton never considered slowing down, so he must be very sure he’ll get the government's approval,” scoffed Rose.

“Playton? Garrett Playton is the Energy Secretary?” the Doctor asked. “Rose, do you remember Anna from Alexandra Palace? She’s got the same name. She said Crofton used to visit her father at home often.”

“Wonderful. They’re friends, too.”

Jonathan shifted uncomfortably. “They’ll let you go after the questioning. The charges aren’t serious enough to keep you behind the bars.”

“It’s just that they’re in no hurry to question us,” muttered the Doctor.

“Either way, the Colonel isn’t going to help us. We suspect he’s in cahoots with Crofton.”

Jonathan laughed. “Colonel Crofton, seriously? He has his quirks, but he’s not insane. I’m sure that he’ll help you if he can – ”

“I’d keep an eye on him if I were you,” the Doctor said. “You need to find out where Crofton’s laboratory is. Your boss chooses to appear ignorant in this regard.”

“I think _Proxima_ is registered at a London address...” Jonathan thought for a minute. “Fine, I’ll do my best. Cardiff City Hall must have some records.”

“You know what?” asked Rose. “We’ve got to make people nervous. We can tell everybody what’s going to happen if Crofton starts the energy extraction. People will panic and the government will have to wait with their approval.”

The Doctor smirked proudly. “Rose Tyler, first a cosmologist, now a diplomat?”

“Jack of all trades,” she smiled cheekily. “So what do you think? Can we do that?”

Jonathan faltered. “We should talk to the Colonel first before doing anything of the kind...”

“To hell with the Colonel!” the Doctor cried. “Jonathan, it’s your chance to save the planet, nay the whole universe!” he said and it wasn’t clear whether he’d been joking. Rose sniggered but shrugged when Jonathan looked at her in thought.

“Well, I have a friend at _The_ _Daily Telegraph_...” he muttered, creasing his forehead into a frown.

“Fantastic! Will I do as an anonymous source?” the Doctor perked up and ran a hand through his hair just in case, as though he was about to appear before a camera. “Grab a pen.”


	6. The Fifth Estate

_Day 676_  
  
“So, Mister... Doctor. Would you state your real name, so that we don’t complicate the proceedings?”

Inspector Faraday had arrived only the next morning. Whenever the Doctor and Rose had complained – and they had done so more frequently come night – the guard would merely shrug and walk off with his jingling keys, leaving the duo alone with the other inmates. By the time his shift had ended, there’d been nobody in the holding cell but for the Doctor and Rose.

The arrival of the inspector hadn’t brought the freedom closer. The Doctor’s data and fingerprints couldn’t be found in any database.

The Doctor folded his hands across his chest and leaned back in his chair. “I tell you again, my name’s John Smith,” he said in a slightly mocking voice.

“Why don’t you say John Doe and be done with it,” the inspector sighed. “How can you confirm that? Do you have any papers? I mean the real papers and not that thing you were trying to pass for them. Do you have an ID at all?”

“I keep telling you that I’ve left it in the police box!” the Doctor cried in such an agitation that the inspector began to seriously doubt his sanity.

“What police box are you talking about? Stop this nonsense! Mister Smith, do you understand where you are?”

“It’s the Earth, beginning of the twenty-first century, although I may be mistaken. Been travelling a lot recently.”

The inspector slammed his hands against the desk, either trying to get to the detainee or out of frustration. “If you keep playing the fool, you’ll get into more trouble than you are in right now, Mister Smith. All I need from you is the confirmation of your identity. Why is it so difficult?”

The Doctor leaned over the desk, coming face to face with the inspector. “I’ve already told you: I’ve nothing on me, but I know where my ID is. Let me go to Peckham and I’ll present it to you.”

“So you mean I should let you go swanning around the city just like that?”

The Doctor scoffed. “Well, it’ll be hard to charge me with anything anyway.”

“We can send a constable to fetch your papers. Are they at Miss Tyler’s flat?”

“For the hundredth time, they are in the police box,” the Doctor repeated.

“Fine, the constable will pick them up from the police box if it actually exists.”

“He won’t find it,” the Doctor said confidently. “There are no reference points.”

Faraday rubbed his face tiredly. “Mister Smith, you do know that the charges against you are not serious enough – yet – to act up in such a way and make everything more difficult?”

“Heaven forbid!” the Doctor cried with affected sincerity.

The inspector shook his head dejectedly and called for a constable. A couple minutes later the beady-eyed police officer from the day before appeared in the interrogation suite.

“Curtis, we’ve got yet another John Smith here. Do your worst. I want his positive ID by tomorrow morning.”

“It’s ridiculous!” the Doctor said with indignation. “If your dear Constable Curtis could be bothered to accompany me to Peckham, I could provide my papers within an hour!”

“Curtis, I beg of you: take this buffoon back to the holding cell so that I don’t have to see him again. He thinks he’s in a circus here.”

“Yes, sir.”

They were almost by the door when the inspector’s mobile rang. He answered it, having gestured Curtis to wait.

“Yes, Captain Abbott, sir? How can I be of service?” Faraday’s face fell and he turned very serious. “Yes, I’ve received it. Quite right. He’s standing right in front of me.” The Doctor tensed up. “Yes, of course, we’ll definitely... What? Wait, what do you mean exactly? But how...? No way! But that case...”

The inspector stood up and began pacing the room in agitation, raking his hand through his closely cropped salt and pepper hair. The Doctor strained to listen in on the other end of the conversation, but wasn’t able to pick up a thing despite his acute hearing.

“Captain, you surely know that I can’t just... We don’t even know his name! Alright, alright. You sure? I mean, how tangible...? But of course, I don’t question your competence! It’s just... Yes, sir. I’ll get to it right away, sir.”

Both the Doctor and Curtis were watching the inspector with keen interest. He sighed in resignation and put his mobile back into his pocket, then straightened up in a military fashion and announced, “John Smith, you’re under arrest on suspicion of causing an explosion in the department store _Henrik’s_ in May 2005. Curtis will read you your rights.”

“What?!” the Doctor gaped in astonishment.

“Take him back to his cell. Mister Smith, a word of advice: get a very, very good lawyer. You’re going to need one.”

_Two hours earlier_

Enraged Crofton stormed through the UNIT corridor and into the Colonel’s office before Jonathan could open his mouth. Coulson’s head jerked up in surprise, and his glasses nearly slid off his nose. Cuthbert slammed a newspaper onto his desk without a comment.

The Colonel looked around and gave Jonathan a little nod, indicating that he could go back to his duties instead of dithering by the door, then reluctantly picked up _The Daily Telegraph_. Crofton put his hands into his pockets, turned his back to the Colonel and stalked off to the window.

Both men remained silent for a while. The Colonel was nervously rustling with the pages. Cuthbert was looking out of the window, balancing on the balls of his feet to calm down.

Coulson piped up at last, “Mister Crofton – ”

“An anonymous source?!” Crofton exploded immediately. “I know who it is! You promised to take care of them, Colonel!”

Coulson put up his hands. “I don’t know how it could’ve happened. When did they have the time? They’ve been detained at a police station since yesterday.” Coulson's eyes kept moving between the paper and his visitor, so his bulldog cheeks were quivering non-stop.

“Can you even imagine the kind of potential consequences after such an article? I’ve met Garrett Playton just yesterday, he was about to greenlight the project. What am I supposed to tell him now?”

“Who’s going to listen to an anonymous source anyway?” Crofton said meekly, forcing out a small laugh. “Any madman could have written that.  Mister Playton is a reasonable man, acting in the best interest of British citizens – ”

“Just listen to this!” Crofton interrupted him, snatching the paper out of his hands. “‘According to the UNIT-related source, any activities involving the spatial-temporal rift can lead to disastrous consequences. “Collecting energy from the rift will lead to the rift’s uncontrolled widening and turn it into a sizable black hole to swallow everything in many thousand miles’ radius,” their source says.’ He even managed to tie it to UNIT, the sneaky git!”

The Colonel began to twist a pencil in his nervous fingers. “This is what we’re going to do, Mister Crofton. UNIT has a good rapport with the press. We’ll publish a disclaimer, saying that we don’t have sources capable of spouting such nonsense about a well-researched subject. We’ll also make some of your experiments’ results public and show that they’re running smoothly. You’ll also get a chance to tell people more about your work. Let’s use their own methods against them.”

Cuthbert’s stiff posture relaxed a little. He turned back to face the Colonel and sat down on the sill, intertwining his fingers.

“I can’t lose this project. It’s taken me half eternity to find the rift suitable for my experiments. I can’t let them spoil it now. You can’t know how much it means to me and I can’t even begin to explain.”

“Nobody’s going to spoil anything, Mister Crofton. They’re in our hands. We’ll find a way to keep them behind the bars for as long as we have to, and then we’re going to make them a proposal. Working with us will be more attractive to them than twiddling their thumbs, waiting for events to unfold.”

“You really think so?” Cuthbert half-smiled.

“Absolutely.”

Jonathan stood frozen behind the door, grateful for the poor sound proofing in this part of the Tower.

***

“Great.” Rose plopped down onto the metal bench, which had made it into the ranks of her personal enemies after a sleepless night. The Doctor was dashing about the cell, occupying the four corners almost at once.

“They can keep us in detention for two weeks on suspicion of terrorism before they’ll have to press charges.”

“But that’s ridiculous!” Rose said. “They won’t be able to prove anything! I wasn’t involved at all, and you had a different face back then! Technically speaking, you don’t even exist.”

“They’ll have plenty of time before they even need to prove anything. Looks like Jonathan won’t be able to help. We’ll have to think how to get out of here on our own.”

“But what about my mum?” Rose covered her face with her hands. “Even if we disappear, they won’t leave her alone.”

“We’ll have to talk to Crofton one last time. I’ll promise to help him on Kepler if he agrees to stay away from Earth.”

“What, you’re seriously going to help him? But what if his technology works and he comes back here?”

“I don’t think it will,” the Doctor sighed. He sat down next to Rose and buried his face in his hands. “Even if it was possible to source energy from the rifts, it would be the easiest on Earth. According to his data, the Kepler rift is barely there, so it would have to be extended before anything can be sent inside. But at least there are not six billion sentient beings living in its direct proximity.”

“So you think we’ll have to sacrifice a whole planet to stop him?”

“I hope not. I’ll be just playing for time, hoping to dissuade him if possible.”

Rose pulled her feet up onto the bench, scooted over to the Doctor and put her hands on his shoulders. “We’ll think of something. He’ll listen to us if he’s got no death wish. He must be questioning himself if he’s so afraid for his project that he had to put us behind the bars.”

The Doctor looked up at Rose and smiled. “Right. Let’s try to appeal to his senses one last time.”

_Day 677_

When Curtis appeared in the corridor with his own impressive ring of keys, the Doctor and Rose opened their sleepy eyes and lifted their heads simultaneously, but the Doctor was first to jump to his feet.

“You’ve got a visitor,” Curtis said with a smirk, going for mysterious. “You can only hope Mister Crofton doesn’t list anything from his house as stolen.”

The detainees exchanged a glance.

“I didn’t think our friend would be as impatient,” the Doctor said, and one corner of his mouth lifted. Rose answered with the hugest grin she could muster when half-asleep.

Cuthbert looked tired but still as impeccable as ever. He wore a warm coat on top of his suit. His hands and neck were enveloped in a scarf and a pair of gloves.

“Feeling cold here on Earth, Mister Crofton?” the Doctor asked oh too politely. “I bet the temperature doesn’t go down below ten degrees Celsius on Proxima. I take it you’ve got accustomed to the local measurement system by now?”

“You’re lucky we don’t use the Fahrenheit scale here any more. Could have been confusing!” Rose dead panned.

“They say Earthlings lost an expensive space project because one of the scientists mixed up the metric and imperial systems. You’ll want to run your calculations twice.”

“Do sit down. I think you’ll be interested to hear what I have to say,” Cuthbert interrupted.

“We’re all ears.”

The Doctor draped himself languidly over the back of the chair and proceeded to stare their visitor down, drumming his fingers on the small metal table. Cuthbert looked at the offending hand in distaste.

“See, Doctor,” he began in a surprisingly calm voice, “I’m not aiming for the destruction of the universe. I’m merely looking for a safe way to extract this energy that’s readily available, basically free for all.”

“There’s no such thing as a free lunch,” Rose said.

“It’s a good saying,” Crofton conceded, “but I said _basically_. The crucial thing about my plan is that the energy of this rift isn’t going to run out. It’ll probably outlive the humankind. The people of Earth keep saying that they need a new clean energy source, and I’m here to abide by their wishes. Is it such a bad thing?”

The Doctor crossed his hands over his chest. “The bad thing is that you’re blind to the facts.”

“Enough squabbling,” Crofton said amicably. “We’ve already exchanged our opinions on this matter. You think my project is bound to fail, but I can’t agree with you there and I think you don’t quite believe your own words anyway.”

“If you say so,” the Doctor said coldly.

“But listen to me. You possess the knowledge far superior to that of Earthlings, maybe even far superior to mine.” Crofton’s eyes quickly cut to Rose when she sniffed derisively, but he went on without faltering, “I’m sure that together we could find a way to protect this planet from any and all possible consequences.”

“What makes you think I’ll agree?” the Doctor asked, crossing his legs nonchalantly.

“Because you have a mind of a scientist. Aren’t you curious at all, Doctor?”

“I’ve seen a lot of curiosities in my day, but it’s not one of them,” he answered with indifference.

Cuthbert leaned in. “Very well, then I’ll give you one more reason. When you’re released for the lack of evidence after having been rotting in this cell for two weeks, we’ll find another way to get the two of you out of the way.”

“Oh, now we’re talking business!” The Doctor clapped his hands in excitement. “Tell me, did Colonel Coulson approve of your methods right away, or did you have to persuade him a little?”

“Colonel Coulson made a surprisingly clever decision. So what do you say? Deal?”

“No.”

“No? Do you mean to say that you and Miss Tyler would rather stay here without any knowledge of what’s happening outside? Do you think it’s the better way to save the world?”

“I mean to say no, we’re not going to help you here on Earth,” the Doctor clarified. “But I can give it a try on Kepler if you agree to stop your work here.”

Cuthbert chewed on his lip, thinking it over. “It’s an interesting idea, but we’ve barely started out on Kepler. Our work there is still in its initial phase.”

“This is why I want to offer my help.”

“If you know about Kepler, then you must also know that the spatial-temporal rift there isn’t wide enough to for the technology available.”

The Doctor nodded, and Cuthbert smirked.

“Didn’t you say yourself that these rifts aren’t supposed to be widened?”

“I said they were not supposed to be widened if that would endanger myriads of living beings populating this planet. If showing you the consequences of your greed and stubbornness is the only way to stop you, then I’m going to try.”

Crofton sighed and rose from his chair.

“I’ll arrange for your release tonight. My driver will meet you and take you to Cardiff. We’ll teleport to the Kepler base from there.”

“Well, actually we have our own means of transportation...”

“I don’t doubt that. You can use it later whenever you feel like visiting Kepler to see how well the project’s doing,” Crofton said. “If you’ll excuse me now. You and Miss Tyler’s little stunt with _The Telegraph_ added to my list of things that need to be taken care of.”

“We’re so glad to hear that,” the Doctor smiled charmingly and waved goodbye.


	7. Kepler-186f

When Rose and the Doctor were collecting their possessions from Curtis, the officer was so disgruntled as though he was releasing dangerous criminals. Well, it was definitely so in his opinion. The Doctor couldn’t help it and beamed at Curtis in the end, earning himself a silent eye roll.

Crofton’s car was waiting for them outside. The Doctor darted a worried look at Rose – two nights in the cell didn’t do her human physiology any good. She was holding up well, not showing any signs of tiredness, but there was no laugh or banter that went hand in hand with her better moods. Rose picked up on his assessing look and smiled back reassuringly. The Doctor reached out and squeezed her hand.

Their driver stood by the open door of the car with his hands clasped primly in front of him.

“Almost a red-carpet welcome, eh?” the Doctor winked at Rose, giving her a small nudge.

The driver nodded firmly towards the door. “My orders are to take you to Cardiff.”

The Doctor let Rose get in first, then followed her and settled into the comfy seat.

“Looks like our man isn’t used to denying himself anything,” Rose said absentmindedly, taking in the interior of the car.

The trip to Cardiff took them a little more than three hours. It was already dark when they stopped by the mall behind Roald Dahl Plass. The Doctor stepped out of the car, stretched his numb legs and looked around.

Crofton’s base of operations was located not in Porth Teigr but closer to the city, right beside the imposing overhang of Millennium Centre that was sparkling in the darkness like the crown jewel of the British Empire. When did Colonel Coulson send them on their wild-goose chase?  It felt like yesterday and a lifetime ago at the same time.

The driver locked the car and walked them into the back of the mall where they went through a massive industrial door to a lift.

“I gather Mister Crofton doesn’t advertise his activities here so that people don’t get scared by spatial-temporal rifts in the middle of Cardiff,” the Doctor said derisively.

“Quite right,” the driver nodded. He was obviously not a man of many words.

When the lift door opened, he made sure the Doctor and Rose stepped inside, and pressed the button for the second subterranean level for them.

“What, you’re not coming with us? What if we manage to escape?” the Doctor asked with a look of mock worry.

“I doubt that.”

The metal door slid into place, leaving the driver outside, and the lift began its slow descent.

“Like in a James Bond film,” Rose said. “Secret underground labs, drivers that look like M’s bodyguards...”

“I’d rather say Ernst Blofeld’s bodyguards,” the Doctor winked.

When the door opened, it was Cuthbert Crofton himself on the other side, more rumpled and tired than in the morning but very enthusiastic in spite of that. Still huddled in his coat, he was rubbing his palms for warmth.

“Doctor, Miss Tyler! That was quick! I’m glad that my side of the bargain went through without a hitch.”

“So now you expect us to deliver promptly too?”

“But of course. I hear there’s a new trend on Earth, all that buzz about employee’s satisfaction and welfare, but I trust we can skip the pleasantries.”

“That must be the thousands of years of Proxima-6 slaveholding system speaking,” the Doctor said urbanely.

“Unfortunately the old ways have to be set aside at the moment. Let’s waste no more time and get to the business at hand.”

Strangely graceful for a man of his stocky build, Cuthbert turned around on the toes of his lacquered shoes and went down the long metal-panelled corridor. Rose followed right behind the Doctor, straining to whisper in his ear despite his long strides and their height difference.

“Didn’t you say that Proxima was a developed planet?”

The Doctor shrugged. “Yes, when it comes to technology. Their science is way more advanced than that of the Earth – partly because their thinkers never had to care for themselves. Their civilization was built on bones – not unlike many Earth civilizations.”

“Is the Doctor giving you a History 101, Miss Tyler?” Cuthbert asked, looking over his shoulder.

“Yeah, an overview of your traditions. Everything makes so much sense now,” she replied snidely.

“There there, no need to condemn us just because everybody on Proxima is doing what they’re best at.”

“You’re probably quite good at herding?”

Cuthbert laughed. “No, there have always been androids and specially trained people to do that for me.”

He pressed his hand to a biometric pad on one of the doors, and it opened to a spacious room. An intricately wired arch stood on the dais in its middle. When Cuthbert shifted a lever by the door, the device began humming and emitting a pale green light.

The Doctor pinched his ear. “Not the most comfortable way to travel.”

“But the fastest one. The teleport will take us to Kepler in an eyeblink.”

“I take it it’s connected to your other bases as well?”

Cuthbert’s eyes narrowed to slits. “I hope you know that this area is heavily guarded.”

The Doctor put up his hands in surrender. “Heaven forbid! Why on Earth would I need to know that?”

Still suspicious, Cuthbert shook his head and went to the control panel. The Doctor and Rose could only hear the beeps of several buttons pressed. Then Cuthbert stepped onto the transport pad and gestured for his guests to follow.

“You do remember our deal, Mister Crofton?” The Doctor asked. “I help you and you stop your work on Earth.”

“Then you’ll need to do your very best to get the extraction going on Kepler to cover our needs.”

A bright beam of light shot out of the arch and split in three. It cut the ground from under Rose’s feet and began pulling on her insides. The meagre content of her stomach was about to flip-flop out, but fortunately her feet hit the floor again before she could say goodbye to her long-forgotten breakfast. Rose never had a chance to jump with a parachute, but it must have been a similar sensation, judging by the stories of her and Shareen’s mutual friend.

She could still see spots, but the whirlwind of reality began to slowly focus on the Doctor’s face in front of her.

“You alright?” he asked.

“Not the best landing,” Rose said and added with a smirk, “but not the worst one either.”

“Yeah, travel through the Vortex can... Oy! What are you implying?”

Cuthbert cleared his throat impatiently. “At your leisure.”

Rose and the Doctor exchanged a look and stepped down from the pad. The new room had a very low ceiling. Even Rose felt ill at ease, while the Doctor cleared the ceiling by three inches at most. Relatively short Cuthbert didn’t look like anything was the matter, though.

Narrow floor to ceiling windows split the wall into even squares. There was only one door, and Cuthbert went over to it right after shaking off the teleport effects and straightening his attire fastidiously.

The base looked austere. Identical square rooms were connected with straight corridors. Some of the rooms were separated by archways, while the others were closed off by coded doors. The base was simultaneously a lab and a home for the employees.

Rose took a look out of the embrasure-like window with a thick fixed glass. Apparently, the building was situated on a high cliff. Frothy waves were crashing against the rocks way below, while the cliff itself gave way to a thick forest covered in fog. Thousands of stars were blinking through the rips in milky clouds.

“Look how beautiful it is outside,” Rose nudged the Doctor.

“Beautiful and dangerous, Miss Tyler,” Cuthbert said. “Extremely cold winds blow here through spring and autumn and push clouds of frozen gasses at unimaginable speeds. It’s better not to brave the elements without a spacesuit then. The air is pleasant and clean during the rest of the year, but far too cold for my taste. I don’t like to spend much time on Kepler.”

“I gather you like the Earth more?” the Doctor asked snidely.

“Alas, I haven’t stayed anywhere but in Great Britain,” Crofton replied, paying no attention to the Doctor’s cheek. “Haven’t had the time. But I know that there’re warmer places on Earth, too.”

“A week in Africa would be right up your street,” Rose rolled her eyes.

“I’ve heard about this continent, they say it’s rich in wildlife. I rather keep to Great Britain despite its bleak climate. But I think, Miss Tyler, you should visit Proxima someday. I’m sure you’ll love our autumn. It’s the best tourist season.”

“I see you’ve gone native,” the Doctor snorted. “In the whole universe, only the British can be babbling on about the weather for so long. No offence, Rose.”

It was way past the lights-out, and all the employees were already in their rooms. The illumination in the corridors was muted or turned off completely, so the bright light hurt the eyes when Cuthbert switched it on in the laboratory.

“The rift is going through here,” he said, entering together with his guests. “It took some effort to build the base on top of the cliff and even to get to this cliff at all, so it would be the perfect fortress if this position needed defending. However, the planet is completely uninhabited. Not a single life form here.”

“Awesome,” muttered Rose.

The room they’d entered was actually the control room. The equipment was situated in the impressive hall right beneath them, separated by a glass floor. In the middle stood a cumbersome machine with a huge grapple akin to that of a crane. Next to it was a device resembling a satellite dish. “That would be the accretion plate,” the Doctor supplied.

A row of batteries was connected to the plate with cables. They were positioned on a conveyor that ended somewhere behind the metal hatch in the wall. The air around the machines was fizzling. A thin line glowing in pink was splitting the hall into two halves, like an infected scar.

The Doctor went to the control panel, put on his clever specs and bent closer to the controls. He pressed a few buttons and a hologram appeared above the desk, outlining the rift.

“I’ll show you what we’ve come up with,” Crofton said. “This is the desired workflow. The way it’s working on Earth, anyway.”

The image began to change. The rift expanded and the grapple positioned a capsule inside that then split in two. One half disappeared from view, while the other one was pushed out by the magnetic field and attached itself to the accretion plate, conveying the energy to the batteries. Cuthbert slammed his hand onto the control panel in frustration and the hologram disappeared in a flash.

“As you can see, Doctor, we’re almost ready to go but for one issue: we can’t get the rift wide enough. We’ve been monitoring its activity for almost a year now, collecting the data here.” A graph appeared on the screen. “The Earth’s rift expands and shrinks cyclically, so it’s easy to predict. This one defies logic. Either we haven't reached the end of its cycle yet, or there’s no cycle at all. See? There’s no pattern whatsoever.”

The Doctor bent over the monitor. The room remained silent for a while. He pushed his glasses to the bridge of his nose and proceeded to press keys and compare the data for different observation periods. Then he squinted, moved even closer to the monitor and said, “You’re just a bunch of scatterbrained idiots.”

Cuthbert tensed up but got ready to listen closely, despite his overblown self-esteem.

“This rift’s in space and not on the planet’s surface,” the Doctor said. “Of course you can’t see the pattern going by Proximian months instead of Kepler’s orbital period around its sun. Doesn’t matter. We can still take your months for the calculation.”

He grabbed a pen and a notebook full of numbers from the desk and began to draw in it enthusiastically.

“Kepler goes round its sun in about eight Proximian months, if one day on Kepler equals one day on Proxima-6. You found this rift when it was at its peak seven and a half months ago. The next peak was observed five months later. These are the points in orbit when Kepler comes across the rift that’s an irregular line in space. This rift doesn’t expand or shrink. It’s static, but the planet’s moving closer or further away.”

Crofton didn’t say anything at first, looking at the Doctor’s scribbles in thought. Then he straightened up, folded his hands behind his back and asked gloomily, “Does that mean that we can extract the energy only twice a year here?”

“Well, you could build a base directly on the sun since the rift’s there at all times. It would be nice and toasty there, just the way you like it,” the Doctor shrugged.

“So there’s no way to expand it at all?”

“Just a tiny part of the rift aligns with the orbit. I’m afraid there’s nothing we can do.”

Cuthbert shook his head. “Then it’s utterly useless. We shouldn’t waste our time with it.”

“But it may contain tremendous amounts of energy judging by its size!” the Doctor said. “Either way, the good news is that the planet will pass it next time in less than one month.”

Crofton pursed his lips. “I thought we’d be able to expand the rift ourselves, or wait until it peaks and fix it in this position. But if we’re supposed to wait for it every time... It’s like sitting by the sea, waiting for fair weather.”

“But the sea is much harder to predict than Kepler’s orbit.”

“Fine,” Crofton said. “We’ll wait until the next peak, see how much energy we can extract, and then decide how to proceed.”

“And you’re ceasing all your activities on Earth during this period,” the Doctor reminded him.

“How noble of you to worry so much about the safety of your precious blue planet. This is what we’re going to do. You’ll remain here and help us with the preparations. We’ll have a room ready for you so you can rest, and tomorrow I’ll introduce you to Professor Ktalush. You’ll be working with him.”

“Can’t wait,” the Doctor said bleakly.

A sleepy alien appeared by the lab’s door a few minutes later to escort Rose and the Doctor to their room. It was as simple and utilitarian as everything else on the base, tiny with barely two steps’ worth of space between the door and the bed, but with two narrow floor to ceiling windows displaying the night sky. It was sprinkled with so many stars that it looked like a roughly woven blanket thrown over the sun.

Rose flopped onto the bed and moved to lean against the headboard.

“Does he pick his servants himself? The gloomier the better?”

“I wouldn’t put it past him. He probably wouldn’t keep anybody too inquisitive around. We’re missing something, something important,” the Doctor muttered and fell onto the mattress next to Rose. He folded his hands on his stomach and stared at the ceiling. “Crofton’s leaving out something. I want to know what it is.”

“Either way, we’ve got a few days to find out. Is it true – the things you told him about the rift?”

The Doctor turned his head to her with a barely contained smirk. “Of course not. He’ll remain uninformed for a little longer.”

“But what if the rift won’t open at the predetermined time?”

“Oh but it will. Everything points towards that. Crofton and his people didn’t notice the pattern, but it exists. It’s a little, er... wibbly-wobbly, but it’s there. By that time we’ll figure out how to give him a fright.”

“Do you really think he stopped extracting energy on Earth?”

“Not sure. Would be great if somebody could look into it and tell us. You still got your mobile?”

“Nope,” Rose said. “I couldn’t take anything with me when I was arrested. Mum must be going spare.”

“We’ve got the sonic screwdriver and the psychic paper, and we’re a couple of steps ahead of our dear friend. It must count for something.”

“Right,” she smiled. She turned to her side to face the Doctor and rested her head on her hands. “Whatever you say about interesting experiences, I’ll always pick a bed over a night in a holding cell in London.”

“Humans and their obsession with creature comforts...” he grumbled with a wink.

“Good night, Doctor.”

“Sleep well.”

When Rose closed her eyes, the Doctor began stirring, trying to find a comfortable position. Then he froze and broke the silence with a soft astonished, “Ow.”

Rose opened her eyes. “What is it?”

“My legs don’t fit,” he complained.

She looked over to his feet that dangled from the edge of the bed, and giggled.

“You’re a bit too tall for a Proximian,” Rose smirked but then added in thought, “Or is it Proximling? What are they called?”

The Doctor frowned, as though the question offended his sensibilities. “Just because you’re an Earthling, that doesn’t make Crofton a Proximling. I’d say he’s a Proximian based on the patterns of the English language, but you can never be sure. We’ll ask him when we meet him next time.”

The Doctor pulled up his legs into an embryo position and fluffed his pillow with a displeased look. “What did you say about a comfy bed? We had to be more specific when presenting Crofton with our demands.”

“Time Lords and their obsession with creature comforts,” Rose said triumphantly.


	8. Tricking the Trickster

_Day 678, Kepler-186f_  
  
The day on the planet was so reluctant to start that it seemed the sun wasn’t quite sure whether to rise and shine or not. The sparkling carpet of stars was dimming slowly, giving way to the streaks of gold and pink that made the clouds look like candy floss. But once the Kepler sun rose, outshining the others far away, a thick fog covered the land.

Rose pressed her face to the glass pane, studying the alien landscape in fascination. The planet looked a lot like the Earth, making all the dissimilarities mysterious and intriguing.

“Do you think they’ll let us go for a walk since we’ll be stuck here for a while?” Rose asked, turning to the Doctor. “It’s not the nasty winds season, right?”

The Doctor smiled. “No, it’s the beginning of winter in this part of the planet. And I’d love to see somebody try to stop Rose Tyler from doing anything. In my experience, she’s impossible to contain, not even with the danger of death warnings,” he said, making her smirk.

“No need to worry when there’s somebody who can rush to the rescue.”

“You’re relying on that too often. It can end badly.”

Rose frowned but had no time to reply. The coded door opened without a knock, letting in their acquaintance from the night before. This time the alien wasn’t as sleepy and disgruntled, but his face seemed inscrutable like that of a wax figure.

“The canteen’s serving breakfast now. Professor Ktalush awaits you,” he said flatly.

“We woke you up yesterday, didn’t we?” Rose asked warmly.

“It doesn’t matter. I hope you settled in well.”

“Quite, thanks,” replied the Doctor with a trace of irony. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name...?”

“I’m Glo. There’s one technicality: I’ll need your DNA samples. A hair or any other tissue will do.”

“What for?” Rose asked.

“It’s compulsory for all occupants of the base.”

“Alright, alright,” the Doctor grumbled.

Glo opened a small box and pushed it towards them. The visitors exchanged a glance, pulled one hair from their heads each and deposited it in the box.

“See that you don’t mix them up!” the Doctor said gravely.

Even if the base didn’t look more welcoming in the daylight, it certainly looked more interesting, just like a Welsh castle in the Middle Ages – apart from the perfectly straight corridors, coded doors and the metal panelling. It seemed that the Cardiff laboratory was built using the same floor plan.

It was possible to hear the raging sea despite the thick glass panes. The fog got thicker by the minute, and the visibility was getting worse with every corridor they passed on their way to the canteen. The base was surprisingly empty – only a few androids with impassively bowed heads met them by the doors.

“Are they the guards?” Rose asked.

“They are mostly cleaning robots with a limited range of functions,” said Glo. The visitors exchanged a sceptic look, but their guide didn’t offer further explanations.

The canteen was situated in a large rectangular room with a dozen of narrow windows. When Rose and the Doctor passed through the door, it became instantly clear why the corridors were deserted. The canteen was vibrating with so many voices that it seemed to hold not only all of the base staff but the whole Proxima-6 population.

Most of the employees, dressed in identical baggy shirts and trousers with braided belts, were already sitting at the long tables, chatting noisily. Cutlery clattering on the plates added to the racket. A row of bays along one of the longer walls connected the canteen to the kitchens. The stations were manned by androids, and a few latecomers were queueing there with their trays.

When the Doctor and Rose appeared in the canteen, a man stood up from the only table for four and hurried towards them from the far side of the hall. He was rather short, thin and so pale that his skin looked deathly white instead of greyish. He could be about eighty by the Earth standards.

“Good morning, I’m Professor Ktalush.”

“I’m the Doctor and this is Rose. Mister Crofton said we’d meet you today.”

“Pardon me?” the old man said in surprise. “Oh, Mister Crofton... He never mentioned the name he goes by on Earth. Please join me, we’ve got so much to discuss.” He clasped his hands. “But breakfast first, of course. Make sure to try the alakass eyes stew, the eyes delivery came in just a few hours ago.”

The Doctor and Rose grabbed a tablet each and joined the queue, studying the menu. Most of the dishes looked like porridge, gelly or cream soup in colours only remotely associated with wholesome food on Earth.

The Doctor smirked looking at Rose, who was trying to question an android on the ingredients of the bluish goo with balls of different sizes suspended in it. She seemed genuinely curious and finally thrust her tablet at the android with a decisive nod. She had already picked a piece of something rubbery that probably passed for bread on Proxima.

“Not going to take it slow?” the Doctor arched an eyebrow.

“Let’s just hope it’s edible.”

The aliens at the long tables were following the newcomers’ every movement with curiosity. All of them were rather short – Cuthbert must have been a giant by his planet’s standards – and had raven-black hair, sometimes with a blue or green tint. Just a few of the faces were pale orange, probably due to a tan. Rose thought that those workers must have been new on Kepler – the local sun was unlikely to provide any tan, even for those spending a lot of time outside.

The workers stopped watching them and went about their own business only when Rose and the Doctor sat down at the Professor’s table. Ktalush cleared his throat. “Are you all settled in yet?”

“Yes, absolutely!” the Doctor nodded. “You know, we’ve spent the last two nights in a prison cell courtesy of our mutual friend, so your hospitality is very welcome. Not that we had a lot of say in the matter...” he trailed off, cocking his head.

Ktalush sighed. “Butassa is sometimes impatient and highly averse to any changes. He’s convinced he’s fighting for a just cause.”

“Averse to any changes?” Rose asked in disbelief. “And what’s with all his talk about the new era and stuff?”

“Maybe we’re just confusing the goals and the means here, Miss Tyler. It’s the correct form of address on Earth, is it not?”

“Are you playing good cop, bad cop?” Rose snorted, but Ktalush didn’t get the reference.

His attention moved to the Doctor anyway, who folded his hands on the table, leaned in and said, “Looks like you’re not fully supporting him, Professor.”

“Mister Crofton inspires admiration in many of us,” Ktalush replied evasively. “He’s well-respected on our home planet, Mister Doctor.”

“Just Doctor. Yep, it’s pretty much the same on Earth.”

“He’s shared some of your observations with me just a short time ago. They’re remarkable. I’d be happy to discuss them in the laboratory after breakfast.”

“And your wish is my command, right?” the Doctor pulled a face. “Will Mister Crofton join us?”

“I’m afraid he’s back to Earth already.”

“I hope he went to stop his work there,” muttered Rose sceptically.

However, I’ll be appraising him on our progress. So you think Kepler will align with the rift in sixteen days’ time?”

“That’s correct according to the calculations, but I’ll need to double-check the data. The exact time may vary slightly.”

“I see. Please finish your breakfast. I’ll be waiting for you in the laboratory. Glo will show you the way.”

“It’s pretty impossible to get lost here,” Rose said, but the Professor ignored her. He dabbed his lips with a napkin and got up.

“By the way, Doctor... Please give Glo the contents of your pockets for safekeeping – just for the duration of your and Miss Tyler’s stay here, of course. I mean in particular your wallet and the oblong metallic device. Mister Crofton says that they have quite curious properties.”

“So no walks outside, then,” Rose muttered.

  
_Days 681-683_  
  
Ktalush was good, but the Doctor was better. Putting on an act of boisterous preparations for the alignment with the rift was taking him no effort at all. He was spending almost entire days in the lab – drawing up schematics and graphs, going through numbers, disassembling the capsule and putting it together again, coming up with improvements for the accretion plate, increasing the battery capacity. And in all those days he’d barely had the chance to have a word with anybody but the Professor.

Two or three technicians were usually present at the lab, but talking to them wasn’t easy. The Doctor was mostly working in the hall downstairs, coming up every now and then to check on the readings, while the technicians remained in the control room and weren’t exactly a talkative bunch anyway. Sometimes a few other people came by to bring or remove equipment or supplies.

The pink glow grew stronger and wider day by day. It sparkled and shone in the laboratory light like a blade in the rays of sun. Crofton came online every evening. He appeared on the wide screen positioned just below the ceiling – reflecting his self-assured grandness quite appropriately in the Doctor’s opinion – and kept observing the work in silence for a while.

“It seems we’re getting closer to the rift, Doctor?” he asked one evening, unable to contain himself.

“Yes,” the Doctor replied curtly. “We calculated for the planet to align in twelve days.”

“Can we start extracting the energy sooner? Say, in ten days.”

The Doctor arched his eyebrow. “What’s the rush, Mister Crofton? Afraid you won’t have enough means to exploit yet another potentially dangerous source of income?”

“Just trying to get the most out of this rift,” Crofton replied indifferently. “But tell me, why can we see it all year round?”

He didn’t sound suspicious, just interested. The Doctor sighed inwardly: it was child’s play.

“Residual energy,” he lied easily. “When that sort of power is coursing through a planet, the aftereffects can be observed for quite some time.”

This reply made Crofton even more enthusiastic than before. He seemed barely able to stop himself from clapping. “Maybe there’s a way to collect this residual energy? To  process it somehow?”

“I doubt that.”

“Well, do think about it and share your ideas later. Nothing should go to waste.”

“Mister Crofton, we’ve had a deal,” the Doctor said through gritted teeth. He noticed out of the corner of his eye that Ktalush tensed up behind his desk and his pen stopped squeaking on the paper.

“The circumstances have changed. I’ve invested a fortune into this base, but now it’ll have to stand idle for the better part of the year. We can’t ignore the expenses.”

“Do you ever think about anything aside from your profit?”

“Believe me, I do,” he said sincerely. “Please excuse me. Mister Playton will be coming for tea any moment now. What a nice British tradition – tea time!”

When Crofton disconnected, the Professor looked warmly at the Doctor who was clenching his fists in agitation. “Let’s get back to work, it’s getting late.”

The Doctor was escorted back to his room by Glo, as usual. Whenever the servant was in a better mood, they exchanged a couple of meaningless phrases about dumb androids or the lack of diversity when it came to the meals at dinner. Most of the time Glo replied in monosyllables and hardly ever spoke first at all. The Doctor stopped trying to get him to speak by the second day.

It was quite the same with all the other candidates for a chat in the lab or in the canteen, with the difference that these people promptly looked scared and immediately remembered a multitude of tasks to finish before the lights-off. Ktalush merely shrugged whenever the Doctor got polemic.

Apparently, Rose wasn’t having any more success either.

“When I’d been begging Ktalush for a permission to help in the kitchens, I hoped for a chance to find out something! But now I’m just scrubbing the plates all day long, listening to the shrieks of the cook!” she complained, before the door closed behind Glo.

Rose was usually the first to come back to the room. Androids cleaned up after dinner, so she was free to go right away while the Doctor went back to work for a couple more hours.

“I wanted to come by the lab, but Glo said it would be ‘unwise’ because I’d be keeping you and Ktalush from work,” she muttered bitterly, lying on the bed with her hands spread wide and staring at the ceiling.

“It’s not much better in the lab,” the Doctor said morosely.

“Huh? What happened?” Rose asked in surprise, pushing up on her elbows and seeing his gloomy face.

“Crofton called.” The Doctor crossed to the bed and settled down next to Rose. “Even if we could get to the teleport and make it back to Earth,” he mused aloud. “Should we destroy his Cardiff laboratory, then rinse and repeat on the other planets? There’s something he’s not telling us, something that’s feeding his obsession...”

“What does Ktalush say?”

“Nothing. He’s quite smart – well, when I say quite, I mean moderately... Well, when I say moderately, I mean he understands just a half of what I’m doing – luckily for us.” Unable to remain gloomy, he cracked open one eye and added smugly, “That, I’ve got to admit, still makes him extraordinarily clever.”

Rose merely rolled her eyes. “And what are you doing exactly?”

The Doctor sat up on the bed and turned to her, his hair sticking up on one side. “I’m installing a cutout for the accretion plate. The system will go offline if the rate of the energy extraction goes beyond what’s safe according to my calculations.”

“And how are you going to explain that? Tell him that the rift doesn’t support a higher rate?”

“No, or he’ll think he can do anything on Earth. I’ll have to tell him the truth. Well, I’ll try to persuade him to go slow and steady first, but I doubt he’ll listen.”

“He’ll be furious,” Rose grinned.

“Serves him right. Small people look funny when they’re angry. But don’t tell Glo I said that, he’s so nice to talk to.”

Rose turned to her side, laughing, and propped herself on her elbow. “Whatever is going on on Earth now...?”

“Not much I suppose, but I see the apocalypse approaching if Jackie Tyler finds out what _Proxima_ is up to. I bet she’s able to shatter everything in his labs with her yelling alone.”

Rose poked the Doctor in the ribs playfully. “We’ve got to let her save the world more often.”

“Oh no,” he replied in mock fright, “if we let her loose, the Earth will turn into one giant Sainsbury’s with cash and pin machines and carriers for every customer.”

“And everything will be only 99 pence there!”

“That’s Earthlings for you. Knock off one penny and it’s a bargain.”

“But you wouldn’t fall for that, what with your racial supremacy and all,” grinned Rose.

“Quite right I wouldn’t!”

***

By their sixth day on Kepler, they almost got used to the fact that all their movements had to be accompanied by a member of staff. That was usually Glo, whose other duties on the base were still unclear, while Rose declared his primary function as Chief Ominousness Officer. He was still the first and the last person they saw every day.

One morning the Doctor leaned closer to Rose and whispered in her ear, piling up food onto his canteen tray, “There’s that bloke at the long table. He’s been watching us for a while.”

She turned around in surprise but couldn’t spot anything out of ordinary. It was the same crowd of uniformly dressed workers in the canteen, going about their business, indifferent to the visitors since around day three. Then one of the men caught her eye.

He was still quite young, with a well-defined jaw and alert grey eyes. When he saw Rose looking, he gave her a barely visible nod. She repeated his movement and turned to the Doctor with a frown. “Do you know him?”

“I see him in the lab sometimes, but we’ve never had a chance to talk.”

“Can we meet him alone somehow?”

“Dunno,” he shrugged. “Can you leave the kitchens during your shift?”

Rose shook her head. “They bring me to the kitchens under escort, like it’s a secret mission. The cook starts yelling every time I stand by the food bay longer than strictly necessary. And it’s all androids there apart from her.”

The Doctor darted one more look at the man who was still watching them expectantly. “It’s alright. We’ll think of something.”

Working on the accretion plate demanded a certain level of stamina due to its height, so Ktalush had to relegate it completely to the Doctor, while scribbling at his desk and watching him closely like one would watch a toddler.

When the techs in the control room above were occupied with their own business, the Doctor put aside his tools and turned to the Professor who lifted his head from his writing only when the Doctor started speaking. “Professor, you’re against Crofton’s ideas.” It wasn’t a question.

Ktalush looked at him dispassionately. The Doctor continued, not waiting for an answer. “So what are you doing here? Why don’t you go home and leave him to clean up his own mess?”

“Please get back to work, Doctor,” Ktalush said coldly.

“Oh, do get off it! We’re acting like a guard and a prisoner here, while you and I are actually in the same position, am I right?”

The Doctor got down from the ladder that was needed to work on the accretion plate, and took a couple of unhurried steps towards the desk, stopping just a few feet away from the Professor. “You don’t have to do it,” he said with feeling. “I don’t know how you ended up here, but you’re under no obligation to indulge Cuthbert Crofton’s ambitions.”

Ktalush remained as sedate as before. He merely looked at the Doctor from beneath his beetled brows and said, “I think you’re forgetting what’s expected from you here. We have only ten days to finalize our preparations, so would you just get to it?”

“You don’t approve of his ways, Professor. Don’t approve of his ways at all. I saw how anxious you were when we were talking to him.”

Ktalush stood up slowly but with determination and propped his bony hands on the desk. “You’re forgetting yourself, Doctor. Don’t make me have them guard you round the clock.”

“What are you so afraid of? Please tell me,” the Doctor implored. “Maybe I can help you. Back on Earth, I have – ”

“You should rather consider helping yourself and Miss Tyler,” Ktalush said shortly. “Please get back to work now, or I’ll have to inform Mister Crofton about this incident.”

Looking at the Professor for a little longer, the Doctor shook his head sadly. “It’s up to you. I’m only trying to help. Let me know if you change your mind.”

Ktalush darted a glance to the control room and sat back down unhurriedly.


	9. Aled

_Days 684-691_

Glo had been escorting the visitors to the canteen always at the same time to arrive when the most workers would already be seated, but the young man from the day before was running late this time too. He grabbed a tray and queued behind the Doctor. Clearing his throat softly, he said, barely audible in the dim of the crowd, “We need to talk.”

“We’re being watched all the time,” the Doctor replied without turning his head.

“Listen, I’ll set off the alarm tomorrow during breakfast,” the technician said and pointed at the brownish goo when it was his turn to order food. “The meeting point is in the lower hall. Glo is the safety officer, so he’ll have his hands full. I’ll wait for you behind the column next to the west corridor entrance.”

The man put his plate on the tray and left for his table after the Doctor carefully nodded his assent. Rose followed him surreptitiously with her eyes and asked, “What did he want?”

“To talk. He’ll see that we can meet tomorrow.”

“What do you reckon he’s up to?”

“Same as us, I hope,” the Doctor said under his breath. “Working on keeping the number of planets in the universe constant despite Cuthbert Crofton’s best intentions.”

Rose rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t be surprised to find a revolution brewing here.”

The alarm went off the next day right after breakfast, just like their new friend had promised. Glo’s confident voice ordered everybody over tannoy to remain calm and follow the escape routes to the meeting point. A short wave of discontent rippled through the canteen, but then the workers put their forks down reluctantly, stood up and went to the door.

The Doctor and Rose exchanged a glance and turned to look at Ktalush. He dabbed his mouth with a napkin in his unhurried manner and stood up from the table. “Apparently we need to evacuate,” he said calmly. The Doctor watched the Professor closely, trying to determine how feasible it would be to shake him off.

However, it was such a crush at the canteen’s door that the Doctor and Rose would have been separated, had they not been holding onto each other so tightly. It was hard for the Doctor to hide in the crowd due to his height, but the current of people was moving so quickly and relentlessly that the visitors found themselves in the lower hall just a few minutes later and without any conscious effort.

The Doctor looked around and glimpsed their new friend by the entrance to the west corridor. He dragged Rose through the crowd and slipped behind the column, where an alcove hid the three from any onlookers.

“Great,” the technician panted, wincing at the unbearably loud howl of the alarm. “I was afraid you wouldn’t manage to lose Ktalush. I’m Aled, by the way.”

“I’m the Doctor and this is Rose. What did you want to talk about?”

Aled scanned the corridor around them furtively. Making sure that they wouldn’t be overheard, he explained, “I heard you talking to Ktalush the morning you arrived. I don’t know what Butassa told you about his objectives, but I’m sure he lied.”

“Go on,” the Doctor narrowed his eyes.

Aled shifted from foot to foot. “Did he tell you anything about what's happening on Proxima-6 now?”

“Not quite.”

“Thought so,” Aled said through gritted teeth. “You know why he needs resources?” He paused for the others to shake their heads. “We’re at war. A civil war that’s been going on for quite a while now. Butassa’s people don’t know anything about manual labour, and their robots have been out of business since the rebels blew up most of the noctone power plants. They have always had slaves for all their dirty work.”

“And the war is about freeing the slaves?” the Doctor clarified cautiously.

“Yes. The planet’s barely generating any power now. Whatever is available isn’t enough to run the machines. This is why Butassa latched onto the idea of utilizing rifts.”

“And you’re here to stop him?” Rose asked.

Aled nodded. “I worked as an engineer at his factory and got a job on this project. If they manage to supply the planet with power, we’ve got no chance at winning the war.”

“So you’re one of the rebels? How come you’re here? Didn’t they suspect you at all?” Rose wondered.

“I was a hired hand, not a slave,” Aled snapped but continued more calmly, “The hired workforce is expected to be happy with their lives and support those paying them. But we’re going to overthrow this system.”

“He doesn’t care a straw about Earth or Kepler,” the Doctor said. “He’ll be extracting energy up until the rifts turn into black holes.”

“Exactly,” said Aled, glad to be understood. “This is why we need to destroy this place as soon as possible, preferably together with Butassa and Ktalush. Proxima should get absolutely none of his batteries. I’ve got some dynamite so...”

The Doctor cleared his throat. “I wouldn’t be so categorical. Listen, Professor Ktalush and I...”

He had to shut his mouth when the alarm stopped blaring. The three of them exchanged tense looks.

“You’ve got to go,” Aled said quickly and winked, “See you soon.”

Following him with their eyes, the Doctor and Rose sneaked back to the meeting point, rounded the crowd and came to stand at the spot next to the exit where they could be easily seen. Glo’s sharp eyes locked on them immediately and he walked towards them at a brisk pace.

“False alarm,” he said. “Minor trouble with the system. Everything’s alright now, we can get to our stations. If you accompany me, Miss Tyler. Doctor, you’re going to go to the laboratory with Professor Ktalush.”

“Of course,” the Doctor grumbled.

When Rose turned around, dragging her legs behind Glo, the Doctor gave her an encouraging smile. Suddenly Ktalush appeared out of nowhere. His pale grey eyes studied the Doctor for a second, then narrowed almost imperceptibly. The Professor turned around without a word and followed the crowd filtering out of the hall.

Evenings (and nights in case of the Doctor who didn’t need much sleep) were a boring affair. In all their time spent at the base, they didn’t find out what the typical Proximian past time was and what other workers – the ones guarded not so closely – were doing for fun. From time to time Glo brought them magazines and books and considered that a gesture of utmost generosity.

The Doctor often went back to the lab after dinner, and Rose was going stir-crazy on such evenings. Sometimes she thought that she hadn’t been reading so much since she’d left school. Fortunately, her link with the distant TARDIS was still strong enough to understand other languages.

Glo seemed to favour one particular kind of book, namely novels featuring a benevolent and noble slaveowner who’d set out on a journey to distant lands, spreading enlightenment and civilization. Sometimes the slaveowner would fall in love, then the story would end with a planet-wide feast and a happily ever after for the newlyweds. Rose and the Doctor often debated on the hidden romantic depths of their guard and giggled, throwing furtive glances at him and baffling Glo completely.

When they got rid of Glo this time and waited enough for his steps to fade out at the far end of the corridor, the Doctor said, “I think Ktalush is on our side.”

Rose cocked her head in surprise and folded down the corner of the page instead of bookmarking it. “Did he say anything? After the alarm?”

“Not really, but I think he saw us talking to Aled. He doesn’t want to discuss anything, but I suppose we can count on him.”

Rose sat up and folded her legs. “Maybe together we can think of a way to stop Crofton? Does he know about the accretion plate?”

“Nah. But even if he guessed something, he’s not letting on. I’ll tell Crofton that we miscalculated the rift output, and the equipment wasn’t able to handle it.”

“You think he’ll buy that?”

“He will if Ktalush confirms it,” the Doctor said, pinching his ear. “Either way, we’ll launch soon. Let’s hope he doesn’t mess up things on Earth in the meantime.”

***

“There’s a cable on the back of the android’s neck. Rip it out today and I’ll come to fix it.”

Rose didn’t have time to react properly. When she lifted her head, Aled was already on his way to the long table. She shrugged, turning to the Doctor who looked at her askance.

Rose started her shift in the kitchens and waited for a while after breakfast to do as Aled had told her. She sneaked up to one of the androids from behind, spotted the thin cable between its neck and head, and yanked. The android’s head fell down at once, and it dropped the tray full of dirty plates. The cook started yelling almost immediately over the clatter of shattering plates.

“Blasted androids!” she shrieked. “Do you see what it did? I’ll have to call for a technician to fix this useless piece of junk. I tell you, our life was much easier before all these technical advancements.”

“I bet slaves don’t have problems with wiring?” Rose snorted, but the cook didn’t quite catch her meaning.

“Well, it’s not that they make no trouble at all, but they’re alive, so you can try to reason with them,” she said and pushed a com button to report the issue. The operator promised to send help, and the cook went on complaining, “It would be fine if we had enough androids and technical support on call, but that’s exactly the problem! A canteen like that is supposed to have at least half as much again androids.”

“Why are there so few then?”

The cook dried her hands on her apron and said with disgust, “Austerity measures. I just hope Master Butassa’s project will pay off soon, so we can get back to normal.”

Aled came a few minutes later with a trolley full of tools, only to be attacked by the cook.

“These androids break down in the middle of the day! How are we supposed to feed all these mouths? With two pairs of hands?”

“It’s nothing serious,” Aled promised. “It just pulled out one of its cables. I’ll fix it in five minutes.”

“Fine. Get to it.”

The cook threw a tea towel over her shoulder, fixed her uniform and waddled off back to work. Her butcher knife could be heard chopping on the board a few moments later.

“Would you pass me that box?” Aled asked Rose, looking at her expectantly.

She pulled the box with screwdrivers from the opened trolley and passed it over.

“As I said, I’ve got a small stash of dynamite,” Aled whispered. “If we place it well – ”

“No, you’ll be found out,” Rose shook her head, looking furtively at the cook who was working on the trunk of a small animal, humming softly. “The Doctor has a plan. He can make the equipment fail when they start generating power.”

“Okay, we’ll see how it goes. After that, we’ll try to get out of here and get to Earth. Did they collect your DNA samples?”

“They did. What was that for?”

“Emergency teleport. It’s located in the lower hall next to the meeting point.”

“Awesome,” Rose breathed out. “I’m already sick of this planet.”

“Rose Tyler!” the cook shrieked. “You were sent here to cook and not to fix androids! Leave it to professionals.”

“See what I mean?” Rose rolled her eyes. Before she went back to her station, she whispered, “The Doctor says Ktalush is on our side.”

Aled frowned in thought, nodded and went back to repairing the android.

Crofton appeared at the base a couple of days before the launch; he’d been monitoring the preparations via video link before that. Professor Ktalush was dispassionately watching him pace around the lab and study the equipment. Cuthbert was in a good mood and full of enthusiasm, like so often recently.

“Doctor! Have you figured out how to collect the residual energy? I have a couple ideas of my own, you should have a look at my schematics.”

The Doctor crossed his arms over his chest. “Now we need to focus on preventing the rift from swallowing the whole planet while we’re extracting energy from it. It’s a bigger and unfortunately unsolvable issue.”

“Apropos extracting!” Cuthbert exclaimed. “I’ve already mentioned that we don’t have to wait until the planet aligns with the rift completely. I think we’re close enough already. I suggest we launch the process tomorrow morning.”

“But we’re not ready yet!” Ktalush protested. “Some of the batteries are still in production, and the technicians – ”

“The technicians will have to hurry up. I’ve studied your reports. It’s a done deal; we start tomorrow morning. By the way, do you know what’s for dinner? I’ve missed our cuisine so much. Earth is a fabulous planet in many regards, but there’s that saying, Professor – East or West, home is best.”

When Cuthbert sauntered off, the Doctor and Ktalush exchanged a tired look.

“Our Master and Commander seems to be in an excellent mood,” the Doctor grumbled. Ktalush shrugged indifferently and went back to his writing. He often went for his pen when wanted to bring a conversation to an end.

The Doctor and Rose managed to talk and discuss their plans with Aled during a few short meetings in the canteen, in the lab and when the biometric code broke down on one of the doors.

The teleport Cuthbert was using was pretty impossible to sneak into, even for people that weren’t constantly guarded, so they were aiming for the emergency one on the lower level. According to Aled, he could get to the control panel and set it for Earth, free the Doctor and Rose after the lights-out and steal into the hall together. The only other thing was to trick Crofton into believing that they needed more time to fix the equipment, so he wouldn’t grow suspicious.

Just like with all well-thought-out plans, this one was doomed from the off.

_Day 693_

Crofton’s eyes followed the first battery with an undisguised glee as it was placed on the conveyor for a short ride to the warehouse. Then the second battery followed, and the third one, and a few after them until Crofton announced, “We’re going to increase the power. Let’s start with ten percent.”

“Ten percent?” the Doctor said incredulously. “You must be out of your mind.”

“It’s a big step,” Ktalush agreed with caution. “Let’s start with two percent and see how it goes.”

Crofton rolled his eyes. “Yeah, just do it. But by the end of the cycle, the power should be doubled.”

“Where are you going to flog all these batteries?” the Doctor asked wryly.

Crofton turned to him and gave him a charming smile. “Our job is to provide, and the buyers will come a-running.”

Every new hour saw the indicators on the control panel creep closer towards the mark that was critical according to the Doctor’s calculations. The first charge of batteries was teleported to Proxima around noon. A short time later the kitchen’s doors flew open, letting in Aled and a team of technicians.

“Routine android check!” one of them said. “Don’t worry, it won’t take long.”

The cook put the ladle onto an android’s tablet in frustration. “Can’t you do that after the shift? I hoped such scandalous practices would stop, since Master Butassa is back again.”

“Don’t mind us, we won’t disturb you,” said Aled. Then he sidled up to Rose and whispered angrily, “You know what we’ve just teleported to Proxima-6? Ten shiny batteries! What’s your friend been thinking?”

“How to save your arse,” Rose hissed back.

“People are dying while he’s playing nice and cosy with Butassa. Tell him that we can still go for my plan.”

“Give him twenty-four hours, will you?” Rose snapped.

“Fine, but not an hour on top of that. If he keeps providing them with power, I’ll blow this place up myself.” Aled stared at her for a few more seconds with a menacing look on his face before returning to his business. Rose blew out a breath she’d been holding and followed his retreating figure with a puzzled frown.

To Rose’s surprise, Glo headed for the lab instead of taking the usual way to her room at the end of her shift. In the days spent on Kepler, she had almost forgotten where the lab was situated.

“Where are we going to?” she asked just in case.

“To the laboratory. Master Butassa wants to see you.”

Cuthbert had been spending his third day on the base, but she’d seen him only a couple of times in the canteen. Having spotted Rose at the lab’s entrance, he stood up from his seat and smiled widely. “Ah, Miss Tyler! So kind of you to join us. I’d like to brag about our results a little. I suppose the Doctor told you about our project’s success. We’ll be approaching the planned output really soon.”

Rose turned to the Doctor. He was sitting with his arms crossed next to the Professor, dispassionately watching the movements of the accretion plate that filled the room with a low hum.

“Over here, Miss Tyler,” Crofton motioned for her to join him by the observation window.

Rose stepped closer cautiously and rested her hand on the glass, unable to drag her eyes off the pinkish glow coming from the rift. It was twisting, shining, shrinking into a thin line only to expand again a second later, making all the surrounding surfaces gleam. It seemed the rift was alive and breathing.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Cuthbert asked. “One of the most impressive wonders of the universe, right here in our lab, ready to serve. I suppose we can ramp it up a notch?” he suggested, addressing the Doctor and Ktalush. “Say, by two percent?”

“Not at once,” the Professor shook his head. “That’s too much.”

“But you said yourself that two percent would be quite safe!” Cuthbert said in surprise.

The Doctor sprang to his feet in irritation. “Can you do maths at all? It was two percent from three point five on the Boccha scale, not from four! Don’t you get the difference?”

“Fine, make it one and a half percent,” Cuthbert shrugged.

The Doctor was about to growl from frustration. “We shouldn’t be increasing the output at all, it’s too dangerous! You’re not supposed to stick stuff into spatial-dimensional rifts in hope they shower you with money!”

“Professor Ktalush, please get to work while the Doctor’s recovering from his fit of hysteria,” Crofton said calmly.

The Doctor looked like pulling his hair out. His hand had clenched into a tight fist over a few strands at the top of his dishevelled head. “I’m telling you, we can’t increase the power, we’re already at the limit!”

Rose was watching the argument with curiosity. She knew that the Doctor’s indignation was for show – the sooner they reach the critical mark, the sooner the systems would go offline – but he had to put himself above any suspicion in sabotage, so Rose chimed in, “Just think about all the people on this base! It’s not their fault that you’re bent on exploiting this rift. How can you put them in such danger?”

Cuthbert turned to her, smiling mildly. “In case of alarm, the emergency teleport will transport everybody back to Proxima. There’s no need to worry. I wouldn’t put lives of valuable experts at stake.” He nodded to Ktalush, “Increase the power.”

With one hand in his suit pocket – he hadn’t really taken a shine to Proximian uniform – the Doctor turned to the observation window and closed his eyes, waiting for what was about to happen. Rose stepped closer and slipped her hand into his other one, immediately feeling a slight squeeze of his fingers. Meanwhile, Ktalush pulled the lever.

The machine started humming so loudly that the floor and the walls began to shake. The noise grew louder with every second as though the lab was about to blow up, so everybody had to cover their ears. The accretion plate jolted, then there was a clap and everything went quiet. The serenity on Crofton’s face gave way to bewilderment.

“What happened?” he demanded.

The Professor scanned the readouts, pushing buttons in concentration, then muttered, “I don’t know, it just stopped working.”

Cuthbert turned to the Doctor, “Find out what it is.”

Rose followed the Doctor’s movements with bated breath. He fiddled with the buttons in the control room, then went down to the hall, removed the mantle from the accretion plate and spent a while studying its inner workings. With a sigh, he returned to the control room.

“It’s fried. Couldn’t take the power.”

“What do you mean, couldn’t take the power?” Crofton exploded.

The Doctor shrugged absentmindedly. “Looks like we overestimated the equipment. Shouldn’t have ramped it up like that.”

Seeing such nonchalance, Cuthbert began frothing at his mouth. “You’ve been here for sixteen days! Couldn’t you see that coming?”

“I’ve warned you, many times.”

Cuthbert’s nostrils flared and the skin flaps that usually protected the mucous membrane of his people from sandstorms bristled almost comically.  
  
“We had a deal, Doctor, according to which you had to find a way to extract the energy on this planet safely and reliably,” he said through gritted teeth.

“You can’t supply the whole Proxima with the energy from this rift, it’s plain impossible!” the Doctor said. “The extraction was running at its peak efficiency as it is!”

Crofton stopped short and blinked in surprise. The Doctor froze.

“Did you tell them?” Crofton asked the Professor.

“I didn’t, Butassa.”  
  
“Then how do you know? Ah, no matter,” he said with sudden calmness. “The planet is moving and the rift will become useless in a couple of days anyway. We can’t wait for five months for it to become productive again. So it’s even better that you already know everything, because we’re heading to Proxima-6 where you, dear Doctor, are going to help us to win a war.”


	10. Into the Mines

“But we can’t do that! Cuthbert, listen...”

Glo was at the ready, as usually. Together with Crofton, he herded the visitors towards the teleports.

“Shut your mouth, Doctor,” Crofton bellowed. His fury had apparently reached the point where there was no room left for words. Storming down the corridors, he clenched his jaws and his small but strong fists in anger. “I’ll tell you when you can speak again.”

“But it’s mental! What do you want to achieve? I can’t let you massacre your own people.”

“We’re not interested in killing them. We only want to keep the status quo.”

“With slavery! I won’t be a part of that,” the Doctor said categorically.

Crofton didn’t react. He motioned to the Doctor and Rose to go to the teleport dais and started to enter the coordinates. However, the visitors were not in hurry to move.

“Look what you could achieve if you came along,” Crofton switched tactics. “You might find a way to teach androids to mine for noctone or discover a new power source for them, then we’ll probably won’t need slaves any more.”

“But they’re people, just like you!” Rose said, unable to contain herself.

“Oh no, Miss Tyler,” Crofton said with a condescending smile, half-turning towards her. “It’s a stratum of limited uneducated creatures used to nothing more but manual labour from their birth on. The last thing I want would be for them to rule Proxima.”

“That’s disgusting!” she cried.

“Cuthbert,” the Doctor was trying to talk some sense into him, “you don’t have to take it to the point where only one side can survive. If you stop now and compromise – ”

“Compromise?!” Crofton laughed in amusement rather than anger. “Compromise with an army of slaves that hate us and would rip our throats out had they had the chance?”

“Mister Crofton, you’ve spent a lot of time on Earth,” Rose said. “You must have seen that everything can work without slavery.”

“But hadn’t slavery been the cornerstone of your civilization for thousands of years, Miss Tyler?”

“Yes, but we’ve found a way to make do without! Besides, you’ve got androids. They can supply themselves with power.”

“This is what I want the Doctor to think about. Please step onto the dais. Don’t make me force you.”

“Just listen!” the Doctor cried but Cuthbert interrupted him with a wave of his hand.

“You can come with me now of your own free will or I can drug you and teleport you to Proxima by force, where you’ll awake not knowing where you are and how to find each other,” he said calmly. “So what do you think?”

The Doctor clenched his fists but didn’t argue.

“Very well,” Crofton nodded, pleased.

The familiar feeling of weightlessness welled up around the solar plexus and spread over the whole body, but the travel time seemed shorter than before. They materialized in a silent and very dark room. Somewhere in the distance, a steady drip-drop of liquid on a metal surface could be heard.

Cuthbert rolled his shoulders and stepped to a control panel to push a button. A dim light illuminated the room and two stocky guards appeared in the doorway.

Crofton turned to his prisoners. “You’ll be taken to the mines. When our noctone plant was blown to pieces, we had to revert to unprocessed coal, but it can cover only the most basic of our needs, as you can see.”

He motioned to follow him and began striding purposefully towards the main exit. The Doctor and Rose exchanged a glance and followed. The guards brought up the rear.

“Doctor, I want to you to familiarize yourself with the labour management on Proxima and design a more energy-efficient system,” Cuthbert continued. “You’ll also have to find a way to upgrade the androids. At the moment, they are very simple robots, unable to take on complex tasks. I want them to completely replace people at some point.”

“So that you can kill everybody but still have the workforce to cater to your every whim?” Rose butted in.

“It’s not decided yet. Perhaps we’ll pardon the rebels when we win the war, as a gesture of our generosity.”

“How dare you speak of generosity!” she exploded.

Cuthbert shrugged nonchalantly. “Well, Doctor, I suppose we can get started. I hope this time you’ll be more attentive and refrain from ill-considered actions, otherwise something unfortunate may befall Miss Tyler.”

“You won’t touch her.”

“I won’t. I’ll just make sure you’ll have the pleasure to witness every minute of it. Maybe this way we can find a common language.”

Having walked Rose and the Doctor to the garage, Crofton nodded towards one of the many six-wheel trucks and said to the guards, “Take them to the mines. They have to be there by dawn.”

When the tailgate closed behind them, everything turned dark. It smelled like wet wood and something tart and unidentifiable inside the truck. The Doctor turned to Rose, his guilty look slashing at her even in darkness. She closed the short distance between them, smiled and squeezed his hand in encouragement.

A loud metal clank and a creak of the opening gates filled the garage. The driver revved up the engine and the truck hurtled forward like a stallion trying to dismount its rider. The prisoners lost their balance and almost toppled to the floor. It seemed that the ride over the pothole-littered road took forever. The truck had to halt a few times to wait out the sound of gunfire in the distance. The Doctor had been trying to pry open the tailgate with a screwdriver he’d secreted away – the usual kind, not the sonic one – but in vain: it was secured with a massive padlock outside.

He put the screwdriver back into his pocket with a sigh and sat down on the floor next to Rose, drawing his knees in. “Looks like we’re in trouble again,” he said, smiling wanly.

Rose smiled back at him. “We’ve managed two full days without – must be a record.”

The Doctor looked at her in disbelief. “You don’t count the weekend at your mom’s as trouble?”

“Come on, it wasn’t so bad. At the very least, we now know the takeaway from that Chinese isn’t trustworthy.”

“I’ve been watching Cliff Richard films and it’s not even the Christmas season yet!” the Doctor complained. “Why on earth would you even mention him in a perfectly normal conversation? Small wonder Jackie hasn’t hijacked the TARDIS to take her back to 1964 yet.”

“Poor Cliff, it would have taken him a while to recover from such a shock!” Rose laughed.

“Yeah, Jackie tends to leave a lasting impression.”

They didn’t speak for quite some time after that, each deep in thoughts, listening to the sound of the engine while the truck was speeding along the bumpy road. Finally Rose had to break the silence.

“Doctor,” she said softly, “you’ve got to promise me something.”

He guessed what it was about and turned to her, his face darkening.

“Promise me you’ll do whatever you think is right, no matter what happens and what he’s threatening you with,” Rose asked.

The Doctor didn’t reply for a while. Then he said gravely, “There’s only one thing that feels right – making sure nothing can harm you.”

“But not at the expense of the whole people,” Rose shook her head with a grin.

“If need be.”

Their eyes had already got used to the darkness so it wasn’t hard to make out each other’s faces in the back of the truck. The Doctor held her gaze for a long time and Rose realized she wasn’t able to look away either. Eventually, he sighed, drew her closer and embraced tightly with one hand. Only then Rose remembered that it must have been quite late on Kepler and that she really needed to sleep.

“What do you reckon, what season is it here now?” she mumbled into the Doctor’s chest. “Crofton praised autumn to the skies.”

The Doctor sniggered. “Not sure, but from what I’ve heard, the temperature here goes rarely below thirty centigrades in summer. I doubt you’d like it.”

“No wonder he’s freezing his bum off in England.”

When the truck stopped and the guards opened the tailgate, even the Doctor had to squeeze his eyes shut for the bright light outside. Having grumbled something in reply to the harsh order to get out, he hopped down from the truck bed and helped Rose to the ground.

Hills and rocky mountains surrounded them wherever they looked.  Enormous smokestacks spit out black clouds of smoke like volcanoes and looked surprisingly natural against this backdrop. The smoke was so thick that their eyes itched and it was hard to breathe even down in the valley. It seemed that they ended up in a city of rocks and smokestacks.

The same six-wheel trucks like the one that’d brought them there were bustling about. The hill slopes held entrances to several mines and a metal-panelled, dirty-grey building occupied the middle of the valley. It had almost no windows. A similar building stood a short distance away in ruins.

“So where’s your boss? Don’t tell me he didn’t come with us!” the Doctor asked with a comically exaggerated eagerness.

“He did, don’t you worry,” replied the guard.

The Doctor turned to Rose who was sleepily tugging at her clothes to set them right.

“Look, Rose! A talkative Proximling!” he exclaimed snidely.

“It’s ‘Proximian’ actually.” The familiar voice came from a surprisingly short distance and Crofton appeared just a moment later.

Rose couldn’t help it and poked the Doctor in the ribs. “I liked the other version better.”

“Yeah, ‘Proximian’ is awfully illogical. Must be a blip in translation. No wonder, seeing how Mister Crofton is the sole English speaker on this planet,” the Doctor replied in a conspiratory whisper.

Cuthbert cleared his throat pointedly. “Well, I hope you’re ready to begin. Come on, Doctor. We’ve got work to do.”

“No doubt.”

Rose perked up. “What do you mean, come on Doctor?”

“I’m afraid you can’t help us,” said Crofton and nodded to the guard, “Take care of Miss Tyler. Make sure she’s comfortable enough.” Then he motioned to the Doctor to follow him.

The Doctor looked back and winked at Rose playfully. “See you later. Try not to start a revolution – they’ve already got enough of those.”

“You know I can’t promise that,” she replied lightly.

They strode off along the sand-strewn road, Rose’s voice ringing in the Doctor’s ear: she was arguing with the guard who had mistakenly assumed it would be a good idea to grab her by her elbow.

Cuthbert led the Doctor into that very building that was dominating the valley with its forbidding grey bulk. It seemed to hum and vibrate inside as though the walls themselves were moving. The corridors were only sparsely lit: half the lamps on the ceiling were out and the other half were giving off bleak coppery light.

The workers here had sunbaked faces in contrast to those on Kepler. They didn’t seem tired or weary but bursting with health and didn’t give the impression of people going through months and months of armed conflict. The Doctor couldn’t help pointing that out.

“Oh, Doctor,” Cuthbert smiled as though the Doctor was a child, and managed to bend towards him patronisingly despite being the shorter one of them. “Unfortunately, you can’t win a war with brains alone. A small army with a good leader can defeat a horde of untrained idiots, however, we still need to attract people to our cause.” As they walked, Crofton gestured around the roomy corridor in a wide motion, indicating his domain. “Everyone you see here are hired workforce, like on Kepler. They are descendants of the slaves, and the idea that our rebel friends oppose to so vehemently is still present in their minds. So it’s enough to offer them good conditions, allow them unions and a compromise here and there for them to praise you like a god.”

Cuthbert went on with relish. He didn’t really need an audience in such situations – he could be talking endlessly even without anybody listening. “And of course it becomes not enough at some point, that’s  human nature for you. But we have usually cut back on some goodies by that time to offer them others, and they are happy again!” he exulted. “Isn’t it mindboggling? And you’re going on about freeing them. These people don’t need freedom, Doctor. They’d perish.”

“And your next step is to play your hired men against the slaves, right? Increase the gap between them for the hatred to fester.”

Cuthbert nodded his assent. “You could become a great leader if not for your craving for freedom and equality. Tell me, do these ideas work on your planet?”

“My planet is gone,” the Doctor replied through gritted teeth.

“Well, I’m sorry to hear that,” said Crofton, turning his inquisitive eyes to the Doctor. “Believe me, I don’t wish this fate on the Earth or Kepler or any other planet.”

“But do you know what happened?” the Doctor asked, paying no attention to Crofton’s words. He hadn’t noticed anger bubbling inside him and wasn’t sure what was the cause this time. “There was a war. A terrible one, a much bigger one than you can imagine. It raged between two great races that were equally striving for power and nobody noticed when we reached the point where it couldn’t be stopped. And do you know what happened? Both these races are extinct now.”

Cuthbert humphed, processing his words in silence. “It’s quite an interesting story, but I fail to see how it relates to Proxima-6.”

“Absolute knowledge and absolute power are equally dangerous, and yet you crave both. The universe won’t allow anybody to possess them for too long.”

“I suppose this idea can be the cornerstone for our sceptical philosophers once we win the war,” Cuthbert rolled his eyes. “We should officially condone freethinking for it seems to distract from real problems at hand.”

The main corridor ended in a wide door leading into an enormous furnace room. Dozens of smudged workers kept shovelling coal into the furnaces, wiping their sweaty foreheads now and then. There was a direct connection to one of the mines, and coal carts were arriving one after the other. Inactive androids with hung heads were standing in neat rows along one of the walls.

“We’re forced to ration, as you can see,” Crofton commented. He was observing the work with a relaxed air, his hands in his pockets. “You’ll have to come up with a different power source, something more efficient than coal or noctone. Then we’ll be able to leave dumb work to androids and send people to the war.”

“Why can’t you choose a different solution? We could find a power source, update the androids and abolish slavery. What do you need slaves for if androids can do it all?”

“I’m afraid it’s too late for that. The absolute hatred is rooted deep in the rebels’ minds. We discussed such a possibility and offered a deal a while ago, but their so-called leaders didn’t want to hear of it. They want freedom and power. You know, you can reason with an educated person. But with slaves, it’s nearly impossible to eradicate an idea once it’s found home in their minds.”

“Especially if you treat them like animals.”

Crofton laughed. “You forget that animals can be quite intelligent! They understand commands, perform tricks, they are loyal and won’t bite the hand that feeds them. Don’t underestimate them.” He removed his hands from his pockets and turned back to the door. “You’ll have a lab and an office. A messenger will get you everything for your basic needs. I’ll provide you with books, documentation or any other sources necessary. Let us know if you need anything that we haven’t considered.”

***

When Rose yanked her hand free of their grip and advised not to touch her ever again, something in her voice made the guards take heed. She was escorted to the tall iron doors leading into the caves at the respectful distance of two feet.

It was clean and not too gloomy inside despite her expectations. The walls sported the ubiquitous panelling and small lamps hung from the ceiling, giving the place the feel of a cellar rather than a natural cave. It was warm and quite cosy inside. Rose was taking in her surroundings while going down endlessly winding corridors.

She could see androids everywhere, just like on Kepler; they were mostly deactivated. The few people she came across seemed more aloof than the Proximians she’d met before. Eventually, the guards brought her to the door that opened into a decent enough lodging for the night.

“Ring the bell if you need anything,” one of them said. “Somebody will bring you food and clothes right away.”

“Great idea,” said Rose. She began saying something else but the guards didn’t wait to listen. The door closed behind them, the lock clicking twice.

Rose looked around. The room was small with the same short bed like on Kepler, a desk with drawers, and a dresser with an enormous bell upon it. A smaller iron door – she almost had to stoop to get through – led to the en-suite.

There was an air vent high on one wall – so tiny that even her hand wouldn’t fit through. The room had no windows or hatches or any other connections with other rooms.

Rose took time to diligently commit to memory all the corridors and forks she’d taken to get there. With some effort, she could probably get back to the surface without getting lost. She hoped the Doctor would remember the way even better: his visual memory was superb, allowing him to easily recognize the places he hadn’t been to for centuries.

It was one servant instead of two guards who brought her clothes and breakfast. The man was about Rose’s height and didn’t look too muscular. She could have taken him down alone, given some preparations. As far as she could tell when he’d opened the door, the corridor was otherwise empty. Granted, the Doctor would have a harder time blending in upon escaping than her, but he’d think of something when coming up with the final plan.

The fresh set of clothes was of the same style Crofton’s workers were wearing – a loose shirt, a baggy pair of trousers and a braided belt so that the clothes wouldn’t hang on a person like a sack. It was similar to the set Rose had got on Kepler which however felt less utilitarian and didn’t make her look like an Asian martial artist.

Having changed, Rose spun around in front of the mirror, performing a few Kung Fu-like moves. It was still early and she could hardly do anything before the Doctor was back, so she was left to come up with something to occupy herself for the next several hours.

However, the Doctor didn’t came back – neither in the evening nor the next morning.


	11. Escape

The laboratory the Doctor was shown to was a vast gloomy space cluttered with so many odd pieces of machinery and gadgets that it looked like they’d been brought from every corner of the planet and dumped there in a hurry. _Well_ , he thought, _that was probably the case_.

He spent the first few hours getting acquainted with that haphazard depot of Proximian technology. You could find the strangest things there, from computers and com badges that got no signal in the lab anyway, to bulky ploughs and laser disintegrators for low abrasion substances. Two old androids with parts missing but power boards intact were gathering dust among the piles of all that rubbish.

The tiny cramped office was very much on display, being separated from the lab only by an archway. There were no doors or other means to ensure some privacy. Apart from a sofa and a massive desk with empty drawers, the Doctor found blueprints for various devices, charts of power consumption and plenty of books, mostly on Physics and Mechanics, in the office.

As opposed to his stay on Kepler, the Doctor’s every move and every conversation were meticulously recorded now, and two guards were stationed by the door instead of well-disposed Professor Ktalush. The Doctor decided that he at least had a chance to distract Crofton from the Earth now, thus partly solving the problem.

The two stuffed dummies, as the Doctor nicknamed them, were relieved by two rather relaxed guards at some point in the evening. They barged into the lab with boisterous laughter, sat down at the smallish three-legged table that was standing crookedly next to the door, and surveyed the premises with an affected sternness. The Doctor hadn’t seen anybody apart from Rose and himself having fun in quite a while. Suddenly it seemed more likely to at least find out more about his situation, if not escaping captivity in the immediate future.

“Brilliant, just brilliant!” he exclaimed giddily, having removed the cover to expose the inner workings of the android. “These power boards would be functional for dozens of years to come. Don’t understand why your boss wants to chuck them.”

One of the guards hummed thoughtfully but didn’t hurry to contribute to the conversation.

“No really!” The Doctor wouldn't be dissuaded. “I could reduce their energy consumption a tad but leave the core technology intact. Noctone is your primary energy source, isn’t it?”

Still getting no answer from the guards, the Doctor arched an eyebrow and cleared his throat loudly. “How am I supposed to help you if nobody’s willing to bring me up to date?”

The guards exchanged a glance, smirking. “D’you hear anything, Yustor?” asked the larger one of them with an orange tan on his round cheeks.

“Nope, Lemm, nothing,” replied the other one with the severity rivalling that of Glo.

“Must be my imagination.” And they guffawed.

The Doctor threw back his head in frustration. “Stop it, it’s ridiculous.”

“Wait, I think I can hear some noise,” Lemm insisted.

“The boss will come round soon, we can tell him then that something’s wrong with the soundproofing.”

The Doctor clicked his tongue. “So, he’s due to visit soon. Glad to hear that, I’d love a little chat,” he mumbled testily.

The day on Proxima-6 was longer than on Earth, but it must have been way past midnight according to the Doctor’s estimate when Crofton came back. He didn’t lose his affected cheerfulness even after a long day, as though looking tired was deemed mauvais ton in his books. Apparently, Crofton had a few pressed shirts stashed away because he appeared fresh and tidy at any given time. He also didn’t deviate from the Earth fashion even when on his home planet.

“I see you didn’t dawdle,” Cuthbert said contentedly, having scanned the lab.

Indeed, the Doctor managed to make a greater mess of things in the span of one day. Half the devices left in in vicinity had been disassembled and the floor was covered in stray parts.

“But of course! Yustor and Lemm were such a great company!” the Doctor replied snidely.

Crofton looked at the guards in surprise and they sprang up from their chairs as if electrocuted.

“He’s lying, Boss! We’ve been silent as the grave here!” said Lemm.

“Haven’t uttered a word! You know us, we appreciate our jobs!”

“Fine, fine! We’ll deal with that later,” Cuthbert dropped the matter. “Now, Doctor. Any progress?”

The Doctor asked sullenly, “The ruins we’ve seen – is that the old power plant?”

“You’re quite observant, I like that,” Cuthbert nodded. “I hope that will help us find a way to replace it soon.”

“Why was it the only building destroyed?”

“I suppose they’d have blown up everything if we hadn’t caught them. By the way, that was their last diversion. We run exhaustive checks on every employee now and expect loyalty as well as implicit obedience. Is that right, Yustor, Lemm?” he demanded, turning to the guards with a theatrical motion.

They nodded vigorously.

“Yustor, tell us what’ll happen should the slaves seize the power. You’re so good at it.”

The slightly taller but skinny and wrinkled guard squared his shoulders and began his proclamation. “They’ll be going for a currency reform, destroying everything our ancestors fought for. That will be basically slavery only that we, honest people, will have to work for them for a scanty pay. They think everybody will become equal but that’s bollocks. I was a loader a couple of years ago and made three hundred credits a year. Having proved myself as a hard worker, I’m at three hundred fifty now plus benefits and paid days off for the Equinox. Of course, not all employers are as generous as – ”

“Thank you,” said Crofton with a nod. Yustor sat back down with a look of satisfaction of having done his duty and a wide proud smile that earned him a sidelong glance from his partner. “See, Doctor? Everybody’s happy. How can we let anybody shake up the system?”

“But what about other people? What have you done to them if they set out to blow up everything they see?”

“Oh, don’t get started again,” Cuthbert implored. “It’s late and we all need to rest. There’s a sofa in your office. It’s pretty wide and will be probably more comfortable for you than the bed. Don’t hesitate to ask if you need anything.”

“Where’s Rose?”

“I’m afraid she had to get a separate sleeping quarters. Don’t worry, she’s alright. Already got three complaints from the guards if you must know, but I don’t think you’ll be surprised.”

“Cuthbert, if anything at all happens to her – ” the Doctor began.

“It’s all in your hands. I hope you’ll decide wisely. Good night.”  
  
  _Day_ _696_

It was hard to plan an escape – or to plan anything at all – since the Doctor had no idea where they were keeping Rose. He hadn’t seen her for two days. Crofton hadn’t stopped to visit since that first night either.

The Doctor hadn’t left the lab since his arrival and was feeling stranded without his TARDIS on a lost planet with a language he didn’t speak.

The lab’s walls were damping any com signal no matter how the Doctor was trying to boost it, so he had no connection to the world outside and no idea what the status of the war was. Even if the rebels occupied most of the territories, Crofton would be telling that his side had an advantage. Somehow he never doubted his victory and was doing everything to persuade others of the same.

It was taxing to ignore the guards at first, but their presence became so habitual at some point that the Doctor actually stopped noticing. If he needed anything, he had to write a list on paper and pass it to the guards. This was the full extent of their communication. Being constantly observed like an animal in a zoo didn’t really help him focus but then, he never liked to stay alone for too long either.

Cuthbert stopped by at the end of the third day. He breezed through the door, looked around the lab as if he hadn’t seen it for a month and greeted the prisoner cheerfully. The Doctor returned only a silent stare.

“Have you had enough time to get to know the situation? Any ideas how you can improve it?”

“I want to see Rose,” the Doctor said gloomily.

“Don’t you worry, Miss Tyler is alright. She’s quite comfortable,” Crofton said.

The Doctor crossed his hands and said shortly, “I’m not telling you anything until you let me see her.”

Cuthbert laughed mildly and turned to Yustor and Lemm, waiting for them to share in his mirth. However, the guards remained impassionate to the scene unfolding before them and went on with their table game, moving the pieces around with concentration. The Doctor liked this shift: they didn’t speak with him or let him join in their games, but they were more interesting to observe than the stuffed dummies that would take over in the morning.

“But Doctor, we’ve already discussed the particulars of our cooperation and come to the conclusion that you’ll have to put up with my conditions under the circumstances,” Crofton replied with a smile.

“How can I know she’s alright?”

“First and foremost, it’s not in our interest to harm Miss Tyler until you force us to do so. You must have noticed I’m not partial to pointless violence.”

“Just let us see each other!” the Doctor exploded. He had noticed that his rising anger would only make Cuthbert merrier and merrier but couldn’t contain himself seeing that smirking visage.

“Business first, fun later,” Cuthbert replied calmly. “Do what we’ve asked you to do, and you’ll see for yourself that she’s right as rain.”

“And I’m supposed to trust you?”

Crofton shrugged. “Not necessarily. It’s just imperative that you work. Well, I’ll stop by later. I hope you’ll get your priorities right by then.”

***

Rose Tyler had never been the most patient person which was the reason for the better part of her troubles. She had rarely managed to stay put even for one hour, especially if she’d been asked to cause no problems for herself or people around her. Ironically, this very trait was one of her safety mechanisms in her eventful intergalactic life.

The Doctor wasn’t coming and she’d lost hope to see him soon. One thing was obvious: she had to do something and quickly, before his good intentions wiped out half the population of this planet. Rose would be in no position to blame him in that case, but she rather not make a disaster a part of their shared history of adventures in time and space.

TARDIS travel had taught her how to improvise long ago. In the most desperate situations, they usually stuck to the concept of escaping first and thinking later. Funnily enough, the air of freedom did help to think better, so Rose had decided to escape the cave first and foremost.

Rose thought it mildly insulting that their captors had been underestimating her physical abilities so grossly. The same puny servant was still bringing her food and magazines (nothing political, just some old rags that Jackie – or maybe Glo – would have liked); she could have taken him out in no time. There was no clock in her room but she could hear his approaching steps in the usually quiet corridor.

Getting out of her room was the easiest part, just as she’d thought. The skinny Proximian carrying a tray had sunk onto the floor after one precise hit to the back of his head. Rose had rarely ever needed brute force but her gymnastic past had been coming in handy aboard the TARDIS. The Doctor would have probably sneaked out of the room right away, but she’d decided to play it safe, tying the servant’s hands with his belt and gagging him. The gag was a flimsy affair but still better than nothing.

The Doctor had been rather lax about filling in her gaps in self-defence, so Jack had taken it upon him to teach her. Under his guidance, Rose had learned to tie such phenomenal knots that even Jack couldn’t wriggle himself free. The Doctor had been watching them with a grin but even he had to concede that it was a nifty skill.

Rose scanned the corridor and left her room. She was wearing crispy, traditional Proximian clothes and would have a hard time blending in with the miners. Fortunately, the first few corridor sections, the ones she’d passed through two days ago, were empty. Rose turned a corner and stopped, trying to remember the way. The caves were dimly lit. All corridors looked endless and quite the same.

When Rose heard voices in the distance, she froze, trying to melt into the wall. Two smudgy Proximians came so close that she had a feeling they were talking right into her ear, but they passed her without noticing, taking a different turn. The workers looked like they’d been going home from a shift outside so Rose decided to follow the way they’d come from.

She wasn’t quite sure whether she was recognizing the corridors, but she’d been definitely getting closer to a hub of some sort. Fortunately – or unfortunately – she’d guessed wrong with the workers: they’d been returning from their shift in the mines. The cave that housed Crofton’s employees was a part of an impressive underground network with its corridors smoothly sloping deeper and deeper into the mountain. The lighting was becoming duller with every section so the workers had to use torches at some point to be able to see at all.

Rose had one advantage: she wasn’t taller than an average Proximian so she’d be probably able to find her way to the surface if she managed to blend in and get to the mines. This task was getting more difficult however because of people bustling about in this part of the caves – alone, in pairs or in small groups – but the faces were impossible to make out in the poor light.

Rose joined a tired group of six or seven workers walking with their heads down along the corridor. Barefaced cheek had saved her and the Doctor on many occasions before. Even if they’d been spotted, people rarely had guts to call them on it because they looked like they really belonged. Well, Rose probably rather not cross a cave full of Daleks with her nose in the air but it worked with humanoids well enough.

She relaxed a little in the near-full darkness of an underground passage. Her chances to remain undiscovered were really getting better here. She hadn’t been outside for quite a while but she could guess it was almost evening, judging by her servant’s visits.

She decided to wait for the workers to end their shift and come up from the mines, so she hid in a niche by one of the walls and sat down on the floor, dragging her knees up to her chest. Weak light beams from the workers’ torches and headlamps touched the irregular contours of the cave now and then. Rail tracks led deeper into the mines and were used both for passenger carriages that held about a dozen miners each and cargo transport. One of such cargo carriages loaded with coal was parked right next to Rose. She waited until the next group of miners took off, leaving the cave empty, and crawled closer to the carriage, nicking a few pieces of coal to cover her face, hands, hair and clothes in black smudges.

She’d been almost dozing off in her narrow nook when people began to pour into the cave anew. Rose started and shook her head to get rid of her drowsiness. Passenger carriages were coming up from the mines one by one and the cave was soon filled with voices of talking, arguing and laughing workers.

It was hard to understand anything in the resulting hubbub, but a skinny Proximian caught Rose’s attention right away. He approached the worker responsible for the transport and whispered something into his ear quite urgently, his eyes darting around. They exchanged a few words after that and the messenger hurried off with a nod. Rose didn’t know whether they’d been talking about her but she had to hurry either way.

The cave became empty quite soon, but Rose was still gathering her courage for a move, not yet knowing whether to get down to the mines or take the risk of leaving the underground passages the way she’d come. Having thought about it a bit more and looked over her camouflage with a critical eye, Rose decided to go back through the familiar corridors since she knew what to expect there at least.

She was getting tired, having almost lost the initial momentum that allowed her to get to the mines so quickly and undetected, but she had to move soon. Any smudgy miner wandering the corridors at night would arise suspicion. Even if that messenger was telling the worker about her, he didn’t look like he wanted to make her escape public knowledge, meaning that the most of the employees remained clueless about her existence.

The plan had been working without a hitch for several minutes and corridors, but Rose was meeting fewer and fewer workers, bumping into their groups only seldom until she found herself alone.

“What they really need here is a fire escape plan,” she mumbled testily to herself, losing her way in endless corridors looking all the same because of the dark-grey panelling that was getting on her nerves.

Eventually, she came to a familiar fork – the one where she’d already taken a wrong turn earlier that night. There were two untried paths still to try so Rose had to go with her gut feeling. When she heard more voices nearby, she hid behind a turn, not quite trusting her camo, until the miners were gone. She felt a whiff of an evening breeze coming from where she was going so she must have picked the right path.

Two men were guarding the exit and no amount of war paint would let Rose sneak by them to the door – the open door, beckoning her with that alien sort of air that always felt a tick different from that of Earth.

“Well, well, well,” drawled a familiar voice – that of the guard who’d brought Rose to her room two days ago. “What do we have here? Looks like somebody’s trying to escape?”

The Doctor’s Emergencies Quick Guide held one main imperative: “Run!” Sometimes it meant “Hit and run!” or “Run for your life and don’t look back!” This time Rose opted to follow all three of the instructions.

She kneed the guard in the crotch (Rose was never certain about alien anatomy but Jack had once mentioned that the universe was surprisingly boring when it came to male humanoids) and took off down the corridor in the direction of the mines at full tilt.

She’d only run a few yards when she hit the chest of a guard who’d just turned a corner. He froze in surprise but recovered quickly, grabbing Rose’s arms.

“Let go of me! Let go!” Rose yelled, but the man only tightened his grip on her upper arms, turning to his partner.

“What are we going to do with her? Drag her back to her room?” he asked, paying no attention to Rose’s desperate attempts to break free. She tried to kick him but the guard had steely muscles and was unusually strong despite his low stature.

“Sure, where else to?”

“Do we report this to the boss?”

The guard waved his hand. “Like he doesn’t know. Just be grateful that he’s in a good mood today.”

“Not for much longer! I’ll be delighted to spoil his mood!” Rose promised, kicking the guard a few more times for a good measure. “Just – just let go of me!” she demanded furiously, fighting the guards all the way until they shut the room’s door in her face.


	12. Kaboom

_Day 697_  
  
Cuthbert Crofton enjoyed leaving people to fret in the dark and never hurried to release them from this state of uncertainty. He appeared in Rose’s room only next morning, just before the breakfast usually arrived.

Having opened the door and closed it behind him noiselessly, Cuthbert swanned into the room. Rose jumped up from her undisturbed bed and took a few unconscious steps backwards. Something in Cuthbert’s feline grace was more threatening than usual.

“I see you can’t stay put, Miss Tyler?” he asked with exaggerated politeness. “I knew you’d be trouble.”

“You’ll be in trouble when we get out of here and kick your arse!” she said feistily. “Where’s the Doctor?”

“Working,” Crofton waved his hand in a dismissive manner. He picked up a magazine from her nightstand, the one delivered the morning before, and began to leaf through the pages with affected interest. Rose would have snorted at the display if she wasn’t so tense: Cuthbert loved a good show in any circumstances. “Besides,” he continued, “I was actually planning on setting up a small meeting for you to make him work harder.”

“What have you forced him to do?” Rose cried.

“What we’ve agreed upon, nothing else.”

Cuthbert closed the distance between them in a few unhurried strides, making Rose press her shoulder blades into the wall. His face loomed menacingly above hers for a few long moments, but then he simply brushed away a smudge on her cheek with his thumb.

“With his help, everything will be over really soon and you’ll be able to go back home,” he promised and stepped away from Rose, letting her take a deep breath.

She clenched her fists and shouted at his retreating form, “You’re a foul, dirty, despicable, cowardly bastard!”

Cuthbert threw his head back and laughed merrily. “How eloquent, Miss Tyler! Well, we’ll see each other later, hopefully under more pleasant circumstances.”

Already walking out of the door, he turned around to add, “Oh, and it will be two servants delivering your food from now on, with the guards stationed in the corridor. I hope these measures will curb the temptations.”

Rose pursed her lips. “What happened to Professor Ktalush?” she asked.

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ve given him some time to think whose side he wants to be on when we win this war.”

***

 

The Doctor had decided not to get into any detail of the Time Lords’ physiology, specifically their basic needs like sleep. People on Proxima were similar to people on Earth and thus susceptible to the interchanging rhythm of day and night, so the Doctor was getting a sizable chunk of spare time when he wasn’t forced to work for the good of the Proximian elite.

His morning usually began with the departure of the night shift comprised of two gloomy, skinny, shadow-like guards and the arrival of the stuffed dummies. The lab was situated on the second floor in a remote part of the building and was designed pretty much as a bunker – its massive walls let no sound in or out and held no windows.

The Doctor had found a book on Proximian history in the bits and bobs littering the lab, but it didn’t contain anything that he hadn’t heard from Cuthbert or had surmised on his own. Most of the humanoid populated worlds were following roughly the same algorithm in their development, so the main principle of the Time Lords was not to interfere. The Doctor’s problem was that he was usually dragged into other planets’ affairs before he’d even step out of the TARDIS.

He didn’t think Cuthbert’s patience would last long – it wasn’t his strong suit even in the best of times. As expected, the lab’s door opened before he could finish his salamander liver puree. The Doctor was still not quite sure whether such dishes were cobbled together by war-plagued chefs out of necessity or he was being served the finest delicacies.

“Good morning, Doctor,” Crofton greeted him without his usual maniacal glee.

The Doctor looked at him in surprise. “Something tells me not quite,” he muttered under his breath.

“Let’s do away with the pleasantries. Do you have anything to tell me?”

The Doctor coughed. “Plenty of things, actually, really a lot. Don’t even know where to start.”

“I’m not in the mood for your clowning around,” Cuthbert interrupted him. “We’ve learned this morning that the rebels are planning an attack. We have to drive them back so decisively that they forget about any rights they presume to have on this planet once and for all.”

“Do you really think you’ll defeat them by sending in a bunch of miners?”

“Not quite. I think we need to apply ourselves to the development of battle androids.”

“An army of robots against insurgents with pitchforks... how noble. Why would people rebel against such government?”

Crofton sighed tiredly. “You like neither miners nor robots. I’m warming up to the idea that cutting out your tongue would be the way to go.”

“Yeah, you’re right, it’s so hard to do right by me,” the Doctor said mockingly. “I’ve got quite a gob, as they say on Earth. You did like the Earth, didn’t you?”

“Enough. Have you decided what to do with the power boards?”

The Doctor erupted in a sudden burst of activity. “Er, well, not quite. I’m still not finished with – ”

“Oh, get off it, Doctor. You needed the whole of thirty seconds to find the error in the calculations Ktalush and I had been working on for months.”

“I have to admit I’m surprised. Professor Ktalush appeared to be a very gifted scientist. I, on the other hand, might have left an inexplicably good impression.”

Crofton slammed his hands against the desktop in fury, and his usual sly coyness that made his not really pretty face likeable gave way to an annoyed scowl.

“Doctor, I think we’ve discussed at length what will happen if you refuse to cooperate,” he said through gritted teeth, turned to the guards and spat, “Bring Miss Tyler here!”

A chill ran down the Doctor’s back – either from fearing the possible outcome of this meeting or from the prospect of the meeting itself. He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Cuthbert, there’s really no need – ”

“You’re painting me as a monster, Doctor, but do you know who the real monsters are? Those who attack our people – with pitchforks as you put it. We haven’t started this war and we’ve no desire to continue it. Any war means losses and costs. Help us finish this one as soon as possible. This is all we’re asking of you.”

“But listen, it’s never too late to find a different solution. Let me talk to the rebel leaders. There must be a way out there that would satisfy everybody.”

“Yes, to overthrow the government, wipe out the ruling class and make the very idea of wealth shameful!” Crofton shouted. “We’ve let the problem take root and have to live with the consequences now. There’s no way back, there’s no compromise. That’s the war for you.”

“But that’ll mean more people dying as long as you keep telling yourself that.”

Crofton waved his hand. “What would you know about it.”

“Cuthbert, you don’t like these people. Maybe they repulse you,” the Doctor said carefully. “But they’re the same living beings as you, they too have been born on this planet. You’ve seen so much in the universe. How can class differentiation still mean anything to you?”

“This is my home, Doctor. And I’m going to defend it,” Crofton snapped. “Oh, but this will be Miss Tyler,” he said, turning to the sound of the opening door.

Rose looked around and made a tentative step into the room. Then her eyes found the Doctor.

“Doctor!” she cried, launching for him before the stuffed dummies had a chance to react. Crofton shook his head, letting the guards know to stay put.

“What happened?” the Doctor asked, letting go of Rose and taking in her coal-smudged hair and face.

Rose laughed. “A botched attempt to escape, you must have known I’d try.”

“Rose Tyler, I asked you not to cause any problems,” he reminded her with a smile.

“That was a lot to ask. I’m afraid I couldn’t do that,” she said cheekily, her tongue poking out between her teeth.

The Doctor once again enveloped her in his arms and hugged close. “Are you alright?” he asked gravely in a softer voice, the words almost getting lost in her hair.

Rose winced at the sudden change in his tone and whispered, “Yes. You?”

“‘Course,” he assured her.

Cuthbert cleared his throat and took a step forward. “Now that the preliminaries are over, we can get to the main part.”

The Doctor moved Rose to stand behind him, protecting her with his shoulder. She gripped the fabric of his sleeve unconsciously.

“Miss Tyler,” Crofton went on, “I suppose you know why you’re here?”

“Not out of the generosity of your spirit,” she said.

“Cuthbert, I’ve warned you, if you even – ” the Doctor growled.

“Then what? What, Doctor?” Crofton asked, tucking his hands into his pockets, making his suit jacket look all bulged out. “Have you got a weapon I know nothing about or a gift of hypnosis? Maybe I should be thankful for still walking around unharmed due to your merciful nature?”

“Cuthbert...”

“Bring her here.”

One of the stuffed dummies grabbed the fighting Rose by her hand and dragged her to Crofton.

“So what are we going to start with? Break her bones? She doesn’t need her mobility under the circumstances.”

“Stop this farce,” the Doctor snarled.

“Farce?” Cuthbert smiled. “It seems I talk too much, giving a wrong impression when it comes to actions. Break her hand.”

Rose was fighting the guards for what she was worth, and her scared yelp reverberated loudly from the unpenetrable walls of the laboratory, merging with the Doctor’s scream, “Stop!”

Crofton merely continued staring at him expectantly, giving no order to stop it. Looking between Crofton and frightened Rose in the guards’ hands so quickly that his brain barely had time to process it, the Doctor cried desperately, “Solar batteries!”

Cuthbert raised his hand and the stuffed dummies froze as if paused with a remote. Then he asked with interest, “How do you mean, Doctor?”

“The androids’ power boards should be exchanged for solar batteries. Proxima is a sunny planet. The androids will become self-sufficient.”

Wiggling out from the loosened grip, Rose cried, “Doctor, don’t!”

“I like it,” Cuthbert clapped his hands enthusiastically. “Have you thought about starting a mass production with minimal resources?”

“Yes, it can be done right here,” the Doctor muttered with his head bent low.

“That’s amazing. A little incentive goes a long way. And Doctor, I’m begging you – no tricks. If we find out that these batteries have additional properties you’ve neglected to mention, we’ll need to continue here, I’m afraid.”

“What are you fighting for, Mister Crofton?” the Doctor asked tiredly.

“For my planet. But are you ready to fight for your girl?”

Crofton didn’t wait for the answer. He ordered the guards to take Rose away, turned around on his heel and headed for the door with a spring in his step. He obviously had his vim back.

“Cuthbert,” the Doctor called after him. “You don’t need the Earth any more. You can get all the energy here.”

Crofton laughed condescendingly. “We’re at war, Doctor, and it’s a very, very costly enterprise. We’ll need to rebuild the economy after our victory, and Miss Tyler’s friends are excellent buyers.”

“But those people are innocent!” the Doctor cried in desperation. “You’ve lived there, you’ve met them! How can you risk their existence?”

“I admit I’d rather nothing happened to Earth,” Crofton shrugged, “I do like that little planet and understand you, especially since you’ve lost your own home.”

“Cuthbert, I implore you, I beg of you to stop meddling with the rift. Your conscience is burdened by so many deaths already. Do not make it worse.”

“We’ll discuss it when we’ve won,” Crofton said, continuing on his way to the door.

“You’re a vile creature, Cuthbert Crofton, and I promise you’ll pay for it,” hissed the Doctor, but Crofton only smirked in return.

“We’ll see. By the way, Miss Tyler was more eloquent on this account.”  
  
_Day_ _712_  
  
The battery production was in full swing. A large hall next to the one where the coal was being unloaded had been filled with equipment and machinery. Rows and rows of upgraded androids were lining its walls. The production had been automated rather quickly with the newly functional androids assembling parts for the others in geometrical progression, as much as capacities and resources allowed.

The Doctor was exhausted. All trumps up his worn sleeves were rapidly turning into lowly twos of the wrong colour. He hadn’t heard anything from Rose since that day, let alone any news from the front lines, but Cuthbert was ecstatic with glee. Granted, he was often in high spirits but the Doctor hadn’t ever seen him this vivacious and happy, and thought it didn’t bide well for Proxima-6.

Rose hadn’t had a chance to do anything during those past days either. She’d been cut no slack at all, just as Crofton had promised, and was going mental in her solitary confinement of a room with absolutely no news from the outside.

Her room was situated in a remote branch of the cave, so she had to listen really closely to be able to make out any odd noises at all. She could usually tell by the sound of many people walking that the workers were leaving for their shift or coming back home, but more often than not she was surrounded by silence. This very same circumstance allowed her to know when somebody was heading to her room and get ready.

Loud trampling and shouts of the workers interrupted the familiar silence in the middle of a night. Rose had been almost asleep but shook off her drowsiness and jumped out of the bed at once, turning on the light on her way to the door. The shouts from the corridors were getting more distinct, but she was still unable to make out the words. There seemed to be so many  people that their voices merged into a rumble.

The shouting stopped abruptly and everything became quiet again, giving the impression that the inhabitants of the cave were back to their peaceful slumber. Rose stayed alert and remained by the door, listening carefully just in case. She lost her balance and almost fell to the floor when there was a loud bang and everything around her tilted for a moment.

She cried out in surprise and ducked instinctively. A second bang followed the first one. The lights flickered and went out, leaving the room pitch dark. The jolt she’d felt could only have been an explosion, so Rose began shouting, pulling on the latch and banging on the door, but it didn’t budge. She could be buried there alive even if it wasn’t the cave itself that exploded but something in its vicinity.

Rose started yelling into the keyhole, hoping for somebody to hear her, but nobody was coming. When the echo of the bangs died out, everything became dead silent again. There were no voices, no trampling, not even the constant hum she’d only realized had been in the walls all along. There’d been only two jolts, so Rose hoped the cave would remain intact.

She ran to her en-suit, tore the grid off from the tiny air vent and shouted again, “Hey! Anybody there? Can you hear me? I’m here!”

Her shouts echoed through the cave, but nothing happened. She was locked inside with no idea of what was happening. Several hours had passed until she heard more steps. Rose jumped to her feet and began banging on the door desperately, hoping for anybody to hear her. “Anybody there? Anybody at all?”

She stormed to her nightstand, navigating the dark room by memory, grabbed the bell and began shaking it frantically. The steps were getting closer and somebody tried the door a few seconds later.

“Locked, dammit. Got a charge left, Rodrick?” they said then ordered, “You, in there! Get away from the door!”

Rose jumped away obediently, with a few seconds to spare before an ear-splitting report. Then the door flew open from a hefty kick. Several stocky dirtied men were standing in the corridor, holding weak torches, but she recognised one of their faces.

“Aled!” Rose cried.

“Rose? Where’s the Doctor?” he asked suspiciously, stepping into the room and looking around. It had been only a little more than two weeks since they’d last met on Kepler, but Aled was looking more tanned and confident now, even though he hadn’t been suffering from excess modesty on Kepler either.

“I don’t know. They’re holding him somewhere in the power plant. We must get him as soon as possible,” Rose groaned.

The men exchanged a silent glance. She saw that and asked tentatively, “What?”

“You mean the coal power plant?” Aled clarified. “In the next building?”

Rose knew that something was off but nodded, “Yeah, what’s wrong?”

“It was their new plant,” Aled said. “They’ve somehow found a way to get androids to work, this is why we had to blow it up first thing. This is why we came. You had to see that fight, it was – ”

Rose didn’t hear the end of that sentence for she was round-eyed with terror. “But the Doctor!” she cried. “The Doctor was there!”

She bolted out of the open door before fully processing Aled’s words. The men followed her, their torches lighting her way a little bit, but she wouldn’t mind running in full darkness just the same since her legs were carrying her forward on their own accord.

Aled yelled from behind, “Rose, wait! Rose!”

It was only dawn, but the sun shining through the cave’s opened gates seemed impossibly bright after the pitch black of the corridors. Rose ran out into the open and stopped short, unable to breathe.

The first thing she became aware of was the stench assaulting her nostrils. She wasn’t ready for the sight before her despite terrible scenarios she’d been coming up with during the last several hours.

The valley had been bright and quietly rolling between the mountain slopes when Rose had seen it last. Now it was littered with bodies – dirty, motionless, blood-stained and dressed mostly in the same workers uniform. Some of them were missing limbs; others could be hardly recognized as humanoids.

Rose’s mouth opened and closed without a sound. Tears sprung to her eyes – either from the horror of it all or because of the suffocating smoke and smell – and everything went out of focus at once.

The fire that had obviously been raging some time ago went out, leaving behind just a few tendrils of smoke rising here and there. The fire must have had little food since most of the buildings were made of stone and the furniture was metal, but only the load-bearing beams of the power plant had survived the explosion.

The only sound Rose could produce when she’d come back to her senses was a loud and clear scream of “Doctor!” that scratched sharply in her throat. She didn’t even notice going back to the group standing by the cave entrance. Her shoulders were shaking from her sobs, but she’d be surprised if anybody told her she was crying.

A random metal sheet she grabbed for support was still red-hot, but she let go of it only when Aled caught her by her elbows and dragged her away from the ruin.

“Let go of me!” Rose cried. “Let go!”

Every passing second was adding a little more clarity to her thoughts. She pressed her hands to her face and muttered, “There must be a cellar of some sort, there must be something, he couldn’t just... he couldn’t...”

“Rose,” said Aled gravely, turning her to face him and giving her a good shake. “Look around. Nobody in this building could have survived. I’m very sorry.”

“No! The Doctor can’t be dead!” she cried hysterically through her streaming tears. “He never dies, Aled, he regenerates! He regenerates!”

Aled let go of her shoulders and Rose sank with her knees into the sand. The rebels exchanged a sidelong glance, probably thinking she was delusional. Aled passed his gun to one of the men, sighed and crouched next to Rose. “Please listen to me,” he began, touching her elbow reassuringly. “We’ll be leaving for our camp in Alerto now. It’s safe there.”

Rose shook her head but didn’t answer. Aled gave her some time to process his words before repeating them patiently.

“No, I’m not going anywhere,” she said. “I’ve got to stay here and find him.”

“But you can see – ”

“No!” she cried, throwing his hand off her arm frantically.

Aled scanned the battlefield of the valley and said calmly, “Just look around. Nobody could have survived.”

“Nobody but him,” Rose said, anger flashing in her eyes. “You don’t know him!”

Aled shook his head. “It’s too dangerous to stay. Everybody’s left, our truck is the last one. We’ve really got to hurry.”

He rose to his feet and pulled her up by her wrist, but she yanked her hand out of his grip with such a force as if Aled burned her. “Don’t touch me! I’m not going anywhere without him!”

Another man, a lean and slightly taller one with shaggy hair and a bushy beard that hadn’t seen a razor or scissors in months, stepped closer and squatted next to Rose. “I’m very, very sorry but please, listen to us. If your friend’s alive, we’re gonna find him,” he promised. His voice was more mature and softer than Aled’s. “But we really can’t stay here any longer. Please come with us.”

Rose looked at him with tearful eyes but didn’t have time to reply.

“Enough, Rodrick,” said Aled. “We’ve really got to leave.”

He pulled Rose to her feet in one swift movement and lifted her in a fireman’s carry with such an ease as if she was a child.

“No!” she shouted hoarsely. “No! Doctor!”

“I’m sorry but we’re not leaving you here.”

Rose began drumming her fists on his back, but Aled wasn’t about to set her down. She was soon deposited in the back of a truck similar to the one that had taken them to the mines, however, it had a barred window instead of a solid tailgate so it wasn’t dark inside. A dozen of exhausted rebels were sitting on the benches and looked up at once when the hatch was opened for her.

The truck lurched forward immediately after the last group of people got inside, almost making everybody fall over each other. A short Proximian pressed Rose into the window when he lost his footing and she laced her fingers through the bars, looking forlornly at the smoking ruins left behind.

A rebel – the one they called Rodrick – came closer and gently touched her shoulder. Rose let out a quiet sob.

“Listen...” he began uneasily.

“He could be anywhere,” Rose said with a sudden resolution. “We haven’t seen each other in many days. He could have been taken away.”

“If he’s alive, we’ll find him. I promise.”

Rose turned to him, looking at his face for the first time. Rodrick was much older than Aled and had wrinkles around his eyes. His eyes looked tired but very calm. Rose’s chin began quivering with sobs.

“I know he’s alive. He couldn’t have died. Not here, not like this. You don’t know him,” she said stubbornly.

Rodrick smiled knowingly and said, “Then he’ll definitely not approve of what you’ve done to your hands.”

Rose looked at her palms and only then noticed angry red welts. They began aching at the same moment so Rose hissed and let go of the bars.

“Let me see,” Rodrick said. He turned back to his team and asked somebody, “Have we got any bandages?”

Rose sank to the floor, curled into herself and pressed her bandaged hands to her chest. It was a bumpy ride and she couldn’t help thinking that her insides would be shaken out of her at any moment.

“Where are we going to?” she asked indifferently.

Aled harrumphed. “To Alerto. It’s not far. We’ve lost a lot of people today so we’ll have to lie low for a while.”

“Where can the Doctor be? I mean, where else do they have their bases?”

He shrugged. “All over the place. We have to find out whether that bastard Butassa is still alive. The Doctor could be with him.”

“Butassa was blackmailing Doctor with me,” Rose said, staring at the floor. “They probably wouldn’t have left without me and lose such a pressure point.”

Aled gritted his teeth. “We’ll find out soon enough. Butassa doesn’t know how to go unnoticed.”

“This weakness of his can give us an edge yet again,” said Rodrick. “Well, it’s time to rest. It’s been a really long night.”


	13. Nothing to Lose

Lemm pushed the Doctor forward with such a force that he fell face first onto the sandy floor. It was wet inside for some reason, and water could be heard dripping onto stones nearby. The bars were closed behind him with a clang when the Doctor jumped to his feet, flung himself at the bars and pulled on them – in vain.

“What a big, big mistake, Mister Crofton,” he growled ferociously, showing his teeth. The Doctor’s face, usually relaxed, was reddened and the veins on his temples stood out. “Because now there’s nothing that would make me help your schemes any longer.”

“I seriously doubt that,” replied Crofton calmly.

The Doctor yanked at the bars with such determination that it seemed he could have ripped them out with his bare hands. Yustor shifted nervously and gave his boss a sidelong glance but didn’t dare speak up.

“What happened to Rose?”

Crofton spread his arms. “No idea. If that scum you’re defending so fondly didn’t blow up the cave, she had a decent chance to survive the attack.”

“We must go back and find her!” the Doctor cried.

Cuthbert leaned forward, his eyes wide with exasperation. “And how do you suggest we do that? Do you know what that place looks like now? It’s in ruins!”

“Don’t care!”

Cuthbert stopped short, his lips curling around a surprised “ah”.

“But of course,” he drawled. “You don’t care. What use is your pacifism if you don’t care that we’ve just lost three hundred people? Their entrails decorate the valley now. Or are you only interested in lives of the rebels? This is your idea of justice?”

The Doctor clicked his tongue. “And you’ve shown your heroic nature by running away the moment you smelled trouble.”

“Do you really think we had to stay put?” Cuthbert asked, perplexed.

“Yes!”

The two men had been facing each other down through the bars for a few long seconds, nose to nose, with their fists clenched. Crofton stepped back first, shuddering all over as if shaking off something unpleasant, and standing straighter.

“I’ll be back soon and we’ll discuss what to do next. Lemm, keep an eye on him.”

“Cuthbert, if there’s something sacred in your life, I implore you, listen to me. Stop it. It’s not too late to end it all.”

“Goodbye, Doctor,” he waved his hand.

“Please, we have to go back! If there’s a chance she’s still there, we have to go back!” the Doctor cried desperately after the man slowly disappearing down the long underground corridor.

Crofton didn’t hear the Doctor’s last words when a heavy door slammed shut, cutting the cries short and plunging the corridor into darkness again.

He reappeared only in the evening with the usual accompanying ruckus and a loud bang of the metal door. Then weak lights came to life in the whole cave. The Doctor didn’t move.

“I’ve just got back from the President’s palace,” said Crofton in such a voice as if he’d come home after a long day at work and was now sharing some water cooler rumours. “We were discussing the repercussions of the attack. The full extent of the damage is yet to be determined. According to our intelligence, the strike had been planned for a different base, so apparently, the rebels managed to trick us. Fortunately, we’d moved a few androids here.”

“Too bad,” the Doctor said snidely.

“The bottom line, Doctor,” Crofton pressed on, “is that the President agrees with me – battle androids are the only logical solution in our situation. We must get to work right away. What do you think, is it possible to upgrade the ones we’ve got?”

With his arms folded across his chest and his head resting against the stone wall of the cave, the Doctor was watching Crofton darkly with a little smirk and no intention to break the silence. Cuthbert shifted around in irritation.

“Doctor, I’m very serious.”

“Why do you think I’ll be interested in helping you?”

“Oh, don’t make me come up with incentives again,” Crofton said sourly. “Let’s just skip this part.”

“I’m afraid it’s not possible any more. You’ve made an error of judgement, Cuthbert. There’s precious little in this universe that could make me risk innocent lives.”

Crofton smiled frostily. “Well, I’m sure I’ll be able to find something.”

***

The truck with the rebels entered a town two or three hours after the end of the attack, and this town was unlike anything Rose had seen on Proxima-6 before. Alerto was squeezed in between imposing hillsides and seemed to have grown out of the surrounding desert. The tan houses with their narrow tall windows looked like they’d been built out of sand.

The buildings had flat roofs and two storeys at most. Well-trodden paths were snaking between them instead of paved streets. There were very few people outside and even fewer vehicles. Dirty famished animals with four paws and a long dog-like snout reared their heads at the sound of the engine but were too weak to sit up and shake out the sand that threatened to bury them.

It was very quiet in the town but for the truck’s engine and howling wind, whirling about clouds of dust and litter. The sun was slowly reaching its zenith, beginning to burn down in earnest and making the air in the back of the truck so hot and sticky that Rose could barely breathe. The locals were used to such conditions and felt a little more comfortable, but even they were eager to get out as soon as possible.

The truck stopped in an alley leading to the yard between two houses. The rebels began folding out one by one. Rose looked around when her feet touched the ground. There were haggard faces peering out of the windows all around them – young and old, with huge distrustful eyes and sunken cheeks. Everything around her reeked of poverty and misery, even the air itself.

A skinny woman in a baggy knee-length dress rushed out of one of the houses, running for the truck. Rose thought in a non-sequitur that the woman’s hair was too carefully coiffed given the devastation surrounding them.

“Thank the stars you’re alive!” the woman cried. She ran up to Rodrick and threw her arms around his neck, getting the same fierce embrace in return.

“I’m sorry Dal, we had to stay behind,” he explained, pressing a swift kiss to the top of her head.

“Everybody else has returned a long time ago. We were afraid you were not coming back.”

“Haven’t the lads told you? We had to check the cave. Dal,” Rodrick beckoned Rose, “say hello to Rose. She’s from planet Earth. Rose, this is my wife Dalma.”

Rose stepped closer tentatively and waved hello. Dalma shook her arm above her elbow in greeting.

“Aled’s mentioned you. Where is he, by the way?”

A mop of black hair appeared behind the truck’s door, followed by a tanned face with a square jaw.

“Here, where else?” Aled smirked.

Dalma planted her hands on her hips. “What are you still doing in the truck, you ruddy fool? Go find Chinne. I haven’t told her where you were off to.”

Aled rolled his eyes and flicked a glance at Rodrick and Rose. “Always the same with elder sisters. You can risk your hide, travel to the other end of the galaxy and still be guilty of everything,” he explained, seeing Rose’s confusion.

“Alright, let’s get inside,” Dalma called. “Tell us what happened.”

The house Dalma showed them into turned out to be a shelter for a dozen of people and the rebels’ headquarters to boot. The kitchen was dark – the narrow windows didn’t let much of the bright daylight in – but it was very clean and apparently took more than a half of the ground floor. Diagrams, drawings and scribbled notes were piled on the long table. A grey-haired man in a long Proximian robe stood like a statue in the darkest corner of the room.

“Professor Ktalush!” Rose exclaimed. Unbidden tears welled up in her eyes – she least of all expected to see a familiar, friendly face there.

“Miss Tyler! Here, and alive!” the old man cried. “But where’s the Doctor?” he looked around the room as if expecting more newcomers to appear.

“We don’t know,” Rose replied slowly. “He could have been in the power plant. I haven’t seen him for a very long time.” Her throat constricted and she could barely finish the last sentence. She didn’t notice when exactly the Professor’s long spindly hands closed around her and her tear-stricken face fell to his shoulder. Ktalush patted her on her back in encouragement.

“How did you end up here?” Rose asked eventually, stepping aside and wiping her face with the back of her hand.

“Oh, that’s a long story, featuring sabotage and explosives,” Aled answered instead of the Professor. He snagged a blue-ish fruit of sorts from the bowl and sat down at the table, hunching a little. “When you left, the work on Kepler came to a halt,” he began. “Nobody knew what to do. Butassa didn’t drop in any more, but he contacted Professor Ktalush the next day with the order to restore the systems. You remember I was telling you about the explosives? So we blew up the equipment, setting the base on fire. Everybody had to evacuate to Proxima. This is when we used the commotion to escape. This is basically it.”

“Our Aled likes blowing up stuff,” said Rodrick amiably, appearing with his wife in the door frame. “He’s even got a nickname – Bomb Squaddie.”

“Yeah, he’s all about blowing up things first and thinking later,” said Dalma. “Been like that since childhood, we couldn’t do anything about it.”

Rose took a closer look at the people in the room. “You’re not all slaves, are you?” she asked.

“We aren’t,” said Rodrick, “we’ve always been free. But three former slaves live in this house. Many of those who escape come here, to Alerto.”

“And what about the others?”

“We’ve been at war for a long time. Almost no slaves have stayed with their masters. Some of them could escape and join us, others were killed on the spot.”

“So actually we’ve already won the war,” Aled said. “Because there’s no slave labour any more.”

Dalma rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t be so hasty with such statements.”

“You think I’m wrong?” he straightened his shoulders. “The only thing they can do now is to defeat us and repress the survivors, but they’d need energy and androids for that.”

Rodrick scratched his beard. “We’ve got to find out where that crook Butassa is hiding. The government’s in distress. They’re powerless without his project.”

“Then we’ll also know where the Doctor is,” Rose said. “How can I help?”

“Right now it’s better to stay put and lick our wounds,” Rodrick sighed. “The attack went well, but we lost a lot of people including our commander, may the stars rest his soul. We need to wait for the government's reaction to the attack.”

“Alright,” Dalma clapped her hands, “all of that can be discussed later. Everybody’s very tired.” Then she glanced at her husband in hesitation. “Rose could probably get Commander Nilosa’s room?” she asked.

Rodrick lowered his eyes. “Yeah, sure,” he said, clearing his throat. “It’s a good room.”

Aled stood up and patted Rose’s shoulder. “Come on, I’ll show you the way.”

It appeared that only the kitchen was spacious in the house. Other rooms turned out to be tiny and sort of squeezed, suffering from a bad case of a really low ceiling. Aled showed Rose to her bedroom that was right next to the stairs on the second floor.

A makeshift bed occupied one corner, its sides snug against two walls. The crude frame was made of wooden boards tied together with a rope and rested on four large bricks. It was covered with a folded length of thick cloth for the lack of a mattress. A small rickety table stood nearby, covered in haphazard piles of books. The room was messy, with odd articles of clothing and personal items littering all available surfaces.

“Let’s clean it up a bit,” said Aled and began picking up the deceased commander’s clothing without ceremony. “You must have noticed we don’t really do posh,” he added, smiling self-consciously.

“No problem,” she said. “I’m sorry about your commander.”

“He was a great man. A former slave, but sharp as a whip. No idea where he learned it all.” Aled waved his hand at the towering books. “A lot of our mates didn’t come back today, but he’d be proud of them all,” he finished in a constrained voice.

Rose gave him a little hug. “I’m certain of that.”

Aled turned his head, and the corners of his mouth lifted. Rose had barely ever seen him smiling, but his usually solemn, even severe face looked as innocent as a boy’s in these moments.

“We’ll find your Doctor, don’t you worry.”

“I don’t,” she nodded. “He never stays lost for long.”

Aled chuckled. “I bet.”

_Day 713_

 “Get a move on.”

The Doctor woke up at the insistent voice of Lemm, booming from the far end of the corridor. He blinked in the dim light, shaking off sleep, and saw four approaching shapes – Lemm, Yustor and two others, a limping female and a bulky male. The Doctor jumped to his feet.

“You’re getting two roommates,” said Lemm without preamble or finesse that were customary to his boss. “Runaways from a few days ago. Got caught today in the woods. They’ll stay here for a bit until Master Butassa decides what to do with them.”

The bars opened and the guard pushed inside the slaves that were huddling together. The short girl with frazzled black hair looked around with wide, scared eyes. The heavyset man didn’t try to hide his anger.

“That’s it, Lemm, let’s go,” Yustor called. “The boss is waiting.”

The guard turned around on his heel and followed his partner. The light went out when they left the cave.

“Hey,” the Doctor called to his new neighbours. “You alright? What happened to you?”

The man spat on the sandy floor and let go of the girl who hurried to hide behind him, eventually peeking out from behind his broad back.

“We got lost on our way to Alerto. Butassa’s men caught us this morning. Who knows what’s gonna happen now,” he muttered. The slave’s voice was low and rough. His curly hair and wispy moustache made him look more frightening instead of softening his features.

“Alerto?” the Doctor asked.

The man looked at him in surprise. “Yeah, where else?” he shrugged.

“What’s in Alerto?” the Doctor tried to clarify without giving too much away, but that earned him yet another incredulous look.

“Spent here the whole year, haven’t ya? Your mug doesn’t look like that, though.”

“Uhm. Let’s say I haven’t heard any news in a while.”

“Alerto is the rebels’ town! Run to Alerto if you wanna save your hide. All slaves know that.”

The Doctor hummed. “Apparently not only the slaves.”

The man narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “You’re no slave, right? Don’t look like one.”

“Er, no, I’m the Doctor,” he said and stuck out his hand in a greeting. The man took it warily, lifted it a little and looked at it from all sides, as if expecting it to be a secret weapon. The Doctor cleared his throat, pulled his hand away and crossed his hands behind his back.

“A doctor? Odd. They usually treat doctors better. You tried to run away too?  Or to help somebody?”

“You could say that,” he nodded.

“What’s your name?”

“The Doctor. This is what I’m usually called.”

“Alright.” The slave nodded. “I’m Hennis and this is Tish.”

The girl peeked out again and, having ascertained that their new acquaintance was trustworthy enough in the eyes of her protector, smiled shyly and gave the Doctor a tentative wave. He gave her an encouraging smile in return, but it was met with Hennis’ cold look of a warning, so the Doctor took a polite step back.

“You’re so strange and not like anybody else,” Tish said artlessly.

“How so?” the Doctor was curious.

She shrugged. “You’re tall and you speak funny. Sort of like Master Butassa,” she said in a whisper.

“What have I told you about addressing them as Masters?” Hennis grumbled angrily.

When Tish ducked her head, he regretted his outburst, drew her closer by her waist and patted her reassuringly with his other hand. The girl barely reached his shoulder and fit snugly under his arm.

“I hope that’s the only thing we have in common,” the Doctor muttered.

Tish looked him over from all sides as if trying to find other similarities. Then she shook her long tangled hair and smiled widely, satisfied with the results of her inspection.

“So, have you been working for Butassa?” the Doctor changed the subject.

Hennis slid down the wall and rested his head against it tiredly, stretching his legs out. The Doctor saw that his feet were shoeless and wrapped in bandages.

“Yeah. Tish was born in the family of his old man’s slaves. I was bought off a construction worker a couple years back. We learned about the war only this summer. We were spending all the time at the base below ground, in the caves. Getting nothing in the way of news there, really.”

“But where are we now?” asked the Doctor. Hennis skated a suspicious glance at him.

“Do you know what planet you’re on, you numpty?”

“Yeah, but that’s about it. Not good at geography, me.”

Hennis sighed. “We’re in Yamshee.”

“And where is that exactly in regard to the mines, Alerto and the base with the teleport?”

“What’s a teleport?”

“Doesn’t matter. Let’s stick with the mines and Alerto.”

“Show him,” said Tish softly.

Hennis rolled his eyes and beckoned the Doctor, smoothing out the sand on the floor and drawing lines with his long meaty forefinger.

“Look. This is us here, see?” he pointed. The Doctor nodded. “The mines are about here. A half-day’s drive at most. And here,” he whispered reverently, “here’s Alerto. A day’s march on foot if you don’t stop for rest too often. Tish hurt her leg. We had to slow down and lost the way.”

Tish nodded. “A few people ran away before us and never came back. We prayed to the stars that they’d reach Alerto safely.”

“By the way,” said Hennis, “you’re a doctor, right? Take a look at her leg. She can barely walk.”

Having glanced at Hennis for an approving nod, Tish showed her right foot, rolling the trousers leg up. Her ankle was swollen, but the dislocation didn’t look too bad. The Doctor tore a sleeve from his shirt and bandaged it tightly around the injured joint.

“That’s it,” he murmured, standing up. Tish looked at him in awe, like he performed a miracle. Hennis ruffled her hair affectionately.

“You reckon we’re gonna get anything to eat?” he scratched his head. “The only good thing about Butassa was that we always had enough grub.”

“When my mum was little, she used to wait on the Masters in the house,” Tish added with hesitation. “She said they’d been kind to her.”

“Yeah, they say it used to be like a holiday resort back then,” Hennis nodded. “Not like in other places. When Butassa’s mother died, they sent all slaves from the house to work in the mines or at the power plants, but we always had enough food and clothes.”

“So nobody was eager to run away?” the Doctor asked.

“We didn’t know where to run to,” Hennis sighed. “Whatever. We’ve gotta grab some decent sleep before they decide what to do with us.”

He took off his robe and bundled it together to use as a pillow, lying down and closing his eyes. Tish snuggled up next to him, her cheek resting on his chest, and his hand curled around her waist protectively at once.

Large, impressively muscled Hennis and tiny, nimble Tish seemed to be two parts of one puzzle, fitting together almost seamlessly. The Doctor couldn’t take his sad eyes from them for a long time.

“Yeah, you do that,” he muttered, swallowing uneasily. The TARDIS, firmly linked despite the distance to the mind of the man who’d stolen her, hummed comfortingly in his mind.


	14. Phantom

The first thing Rose became aware of upon awakening was that Alerto was full of singing birds. Tens and hundreds of them filled the air with their finest chirping, weaving different tonalities into an intricate melody of magical sounds that Rose had never heard before.

She sat up and listened closely. There was no humming in the walls, no stampeding of the miners, no turning of the lock on the metal door of her cell. Only one thing remained the same: the Doctor was still missing.

Rose rubbed her eyes, swung her feet off the makeshift bed and froze: a little black-haired girl was sitting on the dresser, dangling her feet. If she was from Earth, Rose would estimate her to be about ten or twelve.

“Hi!” the girl smiled. “I’m Achiniah. But you can call me Chinne. And you’re Rose, right?”

“Uhm, hi,” Rose answered, lost for words. After the events of the last few weeks, it was somehow odd to see a child in such a place.

“Uncle Aled’s been telling us about you,” the girl continued easily.

“You’re Rodrick and Dalma’s daughter?”

Chinne nodded. “Yep. They are all busy with preparations. Told me to look in on you,” she said importantly.

“What preparations?”

Chinne turned sad. “Don’t you know? We’re going to bury our friends.”

These words, leaving a child’s lips with such a terrible normality, made Rose shudder.

“Does it happen often?”

“What, funerals?” It took the girl a moment to consider, her face earnest, her forefinger pressed to her mouth. Then she remembered and nodded. “The last one was one month ago, but not for so many people. I don’t like funerals. My mum says we have to ask the stars to make them more seldom.”

“Your mum’s quite right,” Rose smiled sadly.

Chinne jumped off the dressed with a practised ease, leaving dust to dance in sunbeams. “It’ll start soon. Come on,” she said, wrapping her little palm around Rose’s fingers.

Chinne navigated Alerto’s tiny alleys so expertly that Rose had little chance to remember the way. The houses were the same everywhere: one or two storeys, with square foundations and yellow-brown walls, narrow windows without glass panes and rickety doors, sometimes hanging askew on one hinge.

The paths between the houses were often so narrow that Rose had to fall behind because there was no room to walk next to Chinne. The buildings stood quite close to each other. One could lean out of a window and touch the wall of the next house.

After a few minutes’ walk, Achiniah brought Rose to a valley hidden between two rocky hills. The hillsides above were lined with solemn rows of bayonets. While the town had looked abandoned earlier, Rose’s head was spinning now because of the sheer number of people gathered.

Dressed in rags covering their hunched backs, with shaggy hair and faces so tanned that Rose wouldn’t have thought them Proximians on a different planet, the rebels and former slaves moved to stand in a gigantic circle. A single golden star was glittering in its middle. The reverent silence was complete with only the wind murmuring around the hem of loose robes.

Their heads bent, the mourners stood quietly in the gusts of desert wind. Some of them were shedding silent tears, and yet nobody uttered a word. Eventually, Rodrick cleared his throat and took a tentative step forward. Only then Chinne shimmied through the circle to stand between Dalma and Aled and hold their hands.

Rodrick didn’t give a speech. He said a few words of encouragement then opened the list of diseased and read their names to the mourning townsfolk. He held a respectful pause after each name, enough to briefly lift his eyes to the sky. The list seemed endless, with Commander Nilosa’s name coming up last.

What happened next took Rose’s breath away and made her follow the crowd in awe. The circle became alive, and thousands of huddled people knelt as one, bowing their heads reverently and not moving until Rodrick lifted the star from its perch and crumbled it, letting the wind take the remnants away.

“It’s a very sad day for us all,” he sighed. “But we’ve got to be strong. In memory of Commander Nilosa and all those who didn’t come back yesterday.”

Rose felt a hand softly touching her shoulder. Turning around, she saw Professor Ktalush.

“A funeral is always tragic, but a funeral without bodies is so much harder,” he said pensively.

“Most of these people will probably never be found. It’s so weird. Hard to believe a person is really dead until you see for yourself.”

“Maybe it’s for the best. Hope is a good thing.”

“Yeah, the Doctor thinks so too,” she muttered.

“How are you holding up, Rose?” the Professor asked kindly.

She laughed. “You’re talking as if he’s dead.”

“Not at all,” Ktalush shook his head, but Rose didn’t hear him or didn’t need his opinion.

“You’ve met the Doctor. He’s... he’s exceptional. No, really,” she smiled. “We’ve seen things you wouldn’t believe. He cannot die, it would be wrong. The universe needs a Doctor.”

“Well, maybe he’ll be back soon and cure us of this illness,” the Professor sighed.

Rose smiled at him. “He’s probably at it as we speak.”

_Day 715_

The door flew open with a bang, so forcefully that the Doctor wouldn’t be surprised if the walls of the cave crumbled. Hennis and Tish blinked sleepily and raised their heads. Leaving the girl half-sitting on the floor, Hennis rose heavily and muttered, “High time they remembered to feed us.”

It was the morning of their third day in the cell. The slaves were getting weak and barely able to stand for they hadn’t eaten since before their capture. The Time Lord’s physiology was an indisputable advantage in situations like that, but even the Doctor had taken to unwittingly counting the days since their last meal.

The bang, however, wasn’t followed by any delicious smells or good news of another sort. Cuthbert appeared before the bars, flanked by two guards.

“So, Doctor, have you changed your mind?” he asked, crossing his arms.

The Doctor rose to his feet and took a few unsteady steps towards the bars – the lack of activity as of late had softened his muscles that were used to endless running.

“Why do you think – ”

But Crofton didn’t let him finish that sentence.

“Lemm, get the girl.”

The guard pointed his gun at Hennis who’d tensed like a tiger ready to jump, pulled Tish out of the cell and turned the key in the lock. The Doctor’s eyes widened in fear.

“Cuthbert, don’t you dare...” he warned.

“It’s a pity Glo isn’t here. I have to say he’s much more inventive in such matters, but I’m confident we’ll manage.”

“What’s going on?” asked Hennis, his eyes darting between Tish, Crofton and the Doctor.

“Ask your new friend,” said Crofton. “He’s responsible now. It’s his call.”

He stepped back from the bars and gave the guard a short nod. The Doctor cried, “Cuthbert!” but was too late. Lemm had already twisted the girl’s arms behind her back and hit her with a round metal object under the ribs. Her body arched as if electrocuted and then began to spasm with a loud shriek.

“No!” Hennis shouted. “Tish! Let go of her, you swine! Leave her alone!”

He grabbed the bars in his enormous, boulder-like fists and yanked with such a force that Yustor lifted his pistol and glanced cowardly at Crofton. Crofton paid no attention to the worried guard, calmly watching the girl twitch in agony.

“Tish!” called Hennis, reaching to her through the bars. He turned to the Doctor with bared teeth. “What’s going on here?”

“Cuthbert, stop! What are you hoping to achieve by that?” the Doctor was pleading in the meantime. “Listen, please listen to me.”

Having ordered Lemm to wait, Crofton turned to the Doctor. “You have my undivided attention.”

“There are many other ways to get what you want. You’re an experienced, talented, natural businessman. You know how easy it is to manipulate people if you want. You could – ”

“Go on, Lemm,” Crofton said. “I noticed she had a limp.”

A sharp kick saw Tish on the floor so quickly that she didn’t even make a peep at first, but her ear-splitting tortured howl echoed around the cave a mere second later. Lemm stepped on the bandaged ankle, putting his whole weight into it, and turned on his boot a couple of times. The fragile bone gave out with a loud crack, and Cuthbert took care to scrunch up his face.

Hennis grabbed the Doctor by the lapels of his jacket and banged his back against the bars. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but if you don’t stop it right now, I’ll break your legs myself.”

“I’m not... I...” the Doctor stuttered. “Cuthbert, stop!” he then shouted at the top of his lungs.

“That’s more like it,” Crofton nodded, pleased.

When Lemm removed his boot, Tish tried to drag her foot up but made it only worse. Crofton moved to the bars and said impatiently, “So?”

“Let’s talk it through,” said the Doctor, struggling to regain control over his speech. “If I consent, people will die – hundreds, thousands of people. You don’t want that. You told me yourself that you didn’t want to kill them. I know that, Cuthbert. You said you didn’t like pointless violence. Please, listen to me just this once, listen and believe me. I’ve been in many wars – in a great many wars. I can help you, but you must – ”

Cuthbert waved a hand, turned on his heel and began walking towards the exit.

“Lemm, Yustor, do with her whatever you like,” he said on his way out.

“But Boss...” Yustor said hesitantly. “Maybe... well... Maybe we shouldn’t?”

“Lemm, keep an eye on your partner. Looks like he’s developing inappropriate rebellious tendencies.”

When the girl was back on the floor of the cell, barely alive and having lost her voice a long time ago, Hennis jumped at the Doctor with a growl and kept punching his unresisting form until the sound of his own animalistic wail made him stop.

***

Holding Tish close to his heart with both hands, Hennis was singing softly. The tune seemed odd and alien and yet enveloped the listener in soft warmth. The girl’s eyelids, restless at first, were beginning to droop. Her tensed muscles relaxed and she went limp in his hands.

_It is the coldest before dawn,_

_The stars blinked out, the path is dark._

_Have patience, my beloved, and know:_

_Past worst o’ nights_

_Bright day will spark._

The Doctor watched them, spellbound. Hennis, a bear of a man who could destroy a fortress with his bare hands, was softly singing into the girl’s ear, cradling her in his arms until the pain subsided enough for her to fall asleep. His stony face softened every time he looked down. The Doctor didn’t understand why he felt like running away and screaming.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so, so sorry.” He screwed his eyes shut and bent down his head. He was trembling, his body suddenly weak with chills.

“What do they want from you?” Hennis asked in a constrained voice.

They hadn’t spoken in a while, sitting in the opposite corners of the cell and avoiding looking at each other while Hennis had been assessing Tish’s injuries. He hadn’t let the Doctor anywhere near her.

“They want me to create an army of androids,” the Doctor swallowed thickly.

“To defeat my people?”

“Yes.”

The drip-drop of water in the long stone corridor seemed almost deafening in the silence that followed.

“I’ve got nothing but this girl,” said Hennis suddenly.

Tish was still sleeping, her face peaceful like a babe’s, although both Hennis and the Doctor saw it contorted in agony every time they closed their eyes.

“I know,” the Doctor nodded.

“She was born here, but she’s got no family left,” Hennis continued. “I asked her to run – and here we are. This is what happened.”

Pulling up his knees to his chest and burrowing his face, the Doctor whispered desperately, “Don’t. You thought it was for the best.”

 _For the best, for the best, for the best_ , echoed angrily inside his head. Hennis waved his hand tiredly.

“So what will happen to her now?”

“I don’t know,” the Doctor whispered, talking about a completely different girl. Then he blurted, surprising himself, “Do you love her?”

“Medical man, you’re such an idiot,” Hennis smiled wryly. “How can you describe it with only one word?”

“Yeah.”

The Doctor sighed. The suffocating heaviness that had been weighing him down was suddenly gone. Henning looked up at him, his voice almost conciliatory.

“I hope you’ve got something clever up your sleeve.”

“A lunatic locked us underground. We’ve no idea what’s going on up there. Do you really think any of our strategies would have a leg to stand on?” the Doctor said, arching his eyebrow.

“I usually act first and think later.”

“Maybe it’s not such a bad idea,” the Doctor said.

_Day 716_

The rebel council gathered in the headquarters. Rose thought that Dalma’s house must have got its status merely due to the size of its kitchen. There were so many sitting, standing, leaning, squatting people stuffed in the room that it would be impossible to count them.

Rose saw familiar faces among them – Rodrick and Dalma, Aled and Professor Ktalush, a few workers and slaves she’d  got to know during her stay in Alerto, and even Chinne who seemed to be instrumental in every important gathering.

“We need a new leader now that Nilosa’s gone,” said a stocky man with hair so black it looked blue.

Everybody’s eyes turned to Rodrick who was sitting at the table between his wife and his daughter. He looked down reservedly.

“I suppose, everyone will agree if – ” Aled began hesitantly.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

“Sure,” came from different corners of the kitchen.

“Nobody against?” asked the man with the blueish hair.

A few people shook their heads. Others remained quiet, silently agreeing with the choice. Rodrick coughed and rose from his seat.

“Fine,” he said. “We’ve been studying the recon data. Our attack has put a noticeable dent in their infrastructure but not for long, I’m afraid.” He paused. “Aled says Butassa’s got power plants on several other planets including Rose’s,” he nodded in her direction. The rebels turned to her.

“And your people are happy with that?” asked one of them.

Rose shifted in her chair. “His methods are very dangerous. We tried to spread panic and bring his work to a stop, but we haven’t heard any news from home in a very long time. There is a man who was helping us, but we had no chance to talk before our departure.”

Aled scratched his neck. “They won’t be able to get resources from other planets if we occupy the teleport.”

“We don’t know how heavily it’s guarded,” Rodrick said. “But it’s safe to assume they’ll defend it with all the troops they’ve got.”

“Then we have to blow it up!”

Rose jumped to her feet. “No!” she shouted angrily. Everybody turned to her again, this time in surprise. “The Doctor could be there, and we’ve got to get him out if this is the case. Besides, the teleport is the only way to get to the Earth and other planets.”

“She’s right, Aled,” Rodrick said. “You told us yourself that Butassa’s idea was a dangerous one. We can’t allow other planets to come to harm. All his bases need to be destroyed. We’ll need that teleport for our own purposes one day.”

Aled clicked his tongue and leaned back in his chair. “I hope that day will come really soon.”

“Everything depends on us. Either way, if Butassa’s still alive, he won’t be twiddling his thumbs. We’ve got to get ready. Professor Ktalush, did you manage to increase our weapons’ range?”

Ktalush sighed. “Our technology is worse than in the last century,” he hedged.

“But that’s our advantage!” Rodrick said. “Don’t forget that our enemy is used to pressing buttons. They think they can take us out with their computers and robots, but without them, they’re as helpless as children.”

Aled snorted. “We’ll see if that will do us any good...”


	15. Truth or Dare

The Doctor perked up at the sound of movement behind him. Hennis was at the bars, studying the lock with his fingers. He’d tried it without any success a couple of times before, but the process seemed to give him hope or dispell the feeling of impotence, either possibility being a relief in their situation.

Tish was looking at him from the floor. “They’ll catch us outside even if we escape,” she whispered.

Hennis waved her off. “If we get outta the cell, we can clock them on their noggin when they enter the corridor. I’m not gonna sit here and wait any longer.” He turned to the Doctor decisively. “What do you say, medical man?”

“I think I should cave.”

“What?” Hennis narrowed his eyes. “And betray my people? Is this what you’ve been fighting for, hero? Is this what they tortured Tish for?”

The Doctor rose to his feet. “We’re not going to achieve anything by sitting here,” he explained patiently. “We don’t know what’s going on above, what’s with the war, what Butassa is doing, we don’t know...” he stopped himself before finishing the sentence. “If I agree to help them, I’ll be able to play for time and come up with something.”

Hennis mulled over it. “Alright. But no funny business.”

“You have to try to get away before I do anything.”

“Doctor, you can’t be helping them,” Tish begged. “They’ll enslave us all again.”

Her voice sounded as though she was about to cry. The Doctor shook his head.

“I’m not going to do anything that would bring harm,” he told her.

Hennis opened his mouth to say something, but the door opened again. He was at the girl’s side in one leap, tensing up and shielding her with his body. Tish peeked from behind his back, frightened.

“You’re not looking well, Doctor!” Crofton exclaimed in lieu of a greeting. “Had a brawl with the locals? Too bad, too bad. Well, I think it’s time we carried on. Yustor, Lemm,” he called the guards.

“Not again, Cuthbert,” the Doctor said.

“Do you have a better idea?”

The Doctor stepped closer to the bars, wrapping his fingers around them. “I agree to help you if you leave them alone,” he said softly.

Cuthbert brought his palm to his ear. “I can’t hear you.”

“I’ll help you,” the Doctor repeated more loudly, “ if you stop this insanity and let them go.”

Crofton laughed out loud. “Doctor,” he singsonged, “we’ve already discussed your position in regard to ultimatums.”

“You’re not losing anything. Just let them go.”

“Let’s get back to it once I see the results of your work.”

“You’ll release them then?” the Doctor pressed on. Cuthbert chewed on his bottom lip thoughtfully.

“Hmm,” he purred. “Sounds like a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

The Doctor sighed and gave his cell mates a look of encouragement. Hennis brought Tish closer to his chest and saluted the Doctor with his free hand, smiling a little by the way of goodbye. Then he mouthed something. The Doctor interpreted it as “Good luck” and couldn’t help smiling back.

“Bravo, Doctor!” Crofton clapped when they stepped out into the bright daylight. “You can write a book on double standards. It’s a pity really that you condemn us. I’d have offered you to be my deputy otherwise. I’m being offered the position of Minister of finance, you see.”

“Oh do shut up,” the Doctor scowled in disgust.

Cuthbert smiled beatifically. “You don’t like not getting the final say, eh?”

They didn’t spend much time in the sun, quickly ducking into a different cave. There was that ubiquitous metal panelling on the walls and the lamps on the ceiling seemed brighter, but even Crofton had to stoop a little after a few steps to get through the passage.

They entered a cavernous chamber several minutes later. Two hundred androids were lined up in neat rows there, stepping row by row into the blinding rectangle of daylight that was filtering in through a wide opening in the ceiling. Fully charged, they stepped forward, making room for the next batch and adding to the metallic cacophony of constantly moving limbs.

“It was a great idea, Doctor,” Crofton exulted, surveying the chamber with the air of a satisfied investor. “And such a simple technology too! It’s beyond me why we’ve never come up with it ourselves.”

The Doctor scoffed and rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything.

“Let’s not waste time. I’ll show you some of my drawings, maybe you’ll find something of use there,” Cuthbert said so easily and friendly as if they were the best mates. “Oh, and Doctor? No funny business. I’ve got plenty of slaves to spare.”

“Where are your drawings? I’ll need paper, pencil and tools,” the Doctor said dejectedly.

“I actually find your logic fascinating,” Crofton continued. “One day you’re saying slavery is evil, the next day you don’t care about three hundred deceased – that’s only on our side – and then you give up everything you stand for just because you see a poor girl suffer. I fail to see the connection.”

“Do you want me to help you or not?” the Doctor asked darkly.

Crofton raised his hands. “Alright, alright, I won’t be tormenting you with small talk any longer.” He shrugged. “Straight to business then.”

_Day 722_

Life in Alerto was dull and monotonous. The dead had been mourned for three days, but the tempo in the town hadn’t picked up afterwards. There was no noise or parties, no gaggles of carefree young people wandering around at night, but Rose saw the townsfolk enjoying the well-deserved period of quiet. Tired wounded men and their frightened families weren’t up to any action just yet. Sometimes there would be news from other rebel camps and from the capital, but they contained nothing that could shake people out of the bliss of their short-lived oblivion.

The Proximians were quiet in their happiness, expressing it with smiles, almost accidental touches and lingering looks. A couple of times Rose walked in on Dalma and Rodrick standing in a silent embrace. She’d sneak out of the kitchen then to roam Alerto’s narrow alleys, breathing in the air of the desert that cooled down for the night. There was something enchanting about the town – maybe a whiff of hope in the air, or the trills of birds keeping up at it dawn till dusk, or the easiness with which one could disappear in its nooks and crannies.

Chinne slipped into Rose’s bedroom in the morning as was her way of the past several days and climbed the dresser with practised ease. She liked sitting up there: things didn’t look quite as tall any more. Besides, she could see the whole street out of the window.

“You’re sad because your friend isn’t here?” she asked artlessly. She resembled Aled a lot – same face, same voice, same unrefined abruptness.

Rose smiled. “His name’s the Doctor,” she said.

“Yeah, I know,” Chinne nodded sagely as only children can. “Strange name.”

“Very strange,” Rose agreed.

“Yours too. Like one of our flowers.”

Rose laughed. Good old TARDIS must have overdone it with the translation.

“It’s growing on my planet too,” she said.

“Does my name mean anything in your language?” Achiniah asked with curiosity. Rose considered it for a moment.

“Probably not, but you’ve got a beautiful name. I’ve never heard it before.”

Chinne giggled. “‘Course not! You being from a different planet and all,” she explained patiently.

A smile tugged at Rose’s lips and she nodded. “Quite right.”

Achiniah was getting started on yet another story, popular with Proximian children but fairly obscure from an Earthling’s point of view, when breathless and sweaty Aled threw open the rickety door to her room.

“We’re under attack!” he shouted. “Chinne, to the basement, quick!”

He grabbed his niece by her hand and pulled her forcefully towards the stairs. Rose jumped to her feet and followed them.

“What? Who’s attacking us? How many of them?”

“Don’t know,” Aled gasped in passing. “But you’d be better off with Chinne.”

“Absolutely not!” she said. “I’m going with you.”

“Fine, just wait here a sec.” He helped the girl get into the basement and told her, “If nobody comes to get you, sit here for as long as you can.”

Chinne didn’t get a chance to argue because Aled quickly closed the trapdoor and covered it with a large cloth Dalma used for a carpet. Then he waved Rose to follow him and ran for the door.

They cleared the houses and came to a halt at the wide street that Rose had taken to Alerto in the back of the truck several days ago. Frightened rebels were building a barricade there, dragging anything and everything they could find in the adjacent houses to the street. The barricade was growing by the minute, blocking the way into the town with a wall of chairs, tables, beds, dressers, wardrobes and odd boards.

Men with guns were coming running out of all alleys. Children and some of the women were hiding in the houses, peeking out of the narrow windows warily. People were shaken but moving with a surprising efficiency as though they’d been waiting for an attack to happen. Aled found Rodrick quickly.

“How many of them?” he asked impatiently.

Rodrick could only shrug. “A dozen of trucks at the very least. Shay and Phillis went down for a look-see but they’re not back yet.”

After a quick glance at Rose Aled picked up one of the guns from a pile in the sand and threw it to her. Having not expected that, she barely managed to catch it.

“Get ready, Earth girl. You know how to shoot?” he asked.

“We’ll see soon enough.”

The road with the approaching trucks was hidden behind a hill. The rebels took positions behind the barricade, on the second floor of the houses, on rooftops – and listened. The sound of engines stopped quite abruptly. The rebels clicked the safety off.

Every second that followed seemed to drag endlessly. Rose had a hard time breathing although she wasn’t panicking. Come to think of it, she wasn’t feeling much at all, as if she wasn’t physically there. Aled gave her an encouraging smile.

“You know we’ve very good chances of not making it, right?” he asked, going for his own brand of pep-talk.

“Don’t care,” Rose answered. He grinned in approval.

No voices or sound of boots on sand followed. Instead, the rebels heard a loud metallic clanking. Rodrick craned his neck, looking over the barricade. “Holy stars above,” he whispered.

The clanking was coming closer, and the heads of the first androids became visible from behind the hillside. Dozens and dozens of robots were matching along the sand-covered road. A woman screamed nearby.

“Explosives, explosives!” Rodrick roared. “They’ve got robots, find explosives!”

The rebels had been rather calm before but blanched at the news and feverishly began looking for dynamite. A skinny lad with the first stubble on his cheeks brought several dynamite sticks from a nearby house and passed them hurriedly to the fighters.

Aled turned to look at Rose. “Hold on,” he said softly.

The rebels jumped to their feet and began to shoot. The androids were coming closer, but they either were still out of range or the bullets ricocheted off the armour.

“Aim for their heads!” Rodrick ordered. Aled hastily climbed the barricade to stand next to him.

“Aim for the necks!” he corrected. “For the necks! That’s where all the wiring is!”

“Get down!” Rodrock shouted and pushed his brother-in-law back behind the barricade. Aled tumbled down, caught himself on a chair and crashed together with it onto the sand. Rose ran up to help him, but Aled was on his feet before she offered him a hand.

“There’re many of us, we’ll manage,” he promised.

Lined behind the haphazard wall of furniture, the rebels were aiming desperately for the oncoming androids. One robot fell to the ground, followed by one more, but the formation wasn’t slowing down. Soon it was time for the explosives.

Deafening claps filled the air with huge clouds of sand, making it hard to see and breathe. The rebels covered their lower faces with the hems of their robes, but it didn’t help much. The visibility was zilch until the dust settled. However, the men didn’t quite believe their eyes once they were able to see again.

The androids had stopped. They’d lowered unused weapons, hung their heads and froze a few steps away from the barricade. The rebels didn’t dare move, watching the metallic rows with wide eyes.

Aled was first to come to his senses. He hopped over the barricade and went for the androids before Rodrick could say anything. Rose followed him.

“Get back! That’s an order!” Rodrick yelled.

Aled didn’t listen. He approached one of the robots with wary, slow steps. The activity LED on his breastplate was shining brightly.

“What’s the holdup?” Aled demanded, speaking loudly into an inbuilt microphone.

“System error,” the android replied in a mechanic voice.

“Error number? Report!”

“Error number seven-two-two-slash-tee-a-ar-dee-i-ess.”

“What the...?” Aled frowned.

Rose’s heart jumped in her chest then flipped rapidly. “Aled, that’s the Doctor! The Doctor!” she cried. “He’s alive! The Doctor’s alive!”

She was shouting at the top of her lungs and Aled had a hard time understanding her at first. She teared up but dissolved into a giddy laughter the next second.

“He sabotaged the androids! He saved us all!” she cried, giving Aled a crushing hug.

The rebels began climbing over the barricade, looking around warily. They were still holding the robots at a gunpoint, but there was no sign of any activity. The rebels circled the robots, looking at them from all sides and even touching them to make sure. Then some of the men began to laugh.

The laughter rippled through the valley, spreading through the gathered crowd. People were laughing like lunatics, splitting their bellies and trying to hold on to the next man’s shoulder. It became hysterical very soon, morphing into loud sobbing of one of the women.

“You were right,” said Aled with a happy smile that showed his perfect white teeth. He was very handsome when he smiled. “That Doctor of yours isn’t half bad.”

“Tell him when you meet him,” Rose said, grinning slyly. “Told ya – there’s no getting rid of him.”

***

The news made Cuthbert so furious that even Lemm and Yustor were keeping their distance, careful not to become an outlet to his rage. One of the guards ran up to the door and unlocked it, letting his seething boss inside.

Crofton stormed into the cavern, grabbed the Doctor by his collar and shook him with a force that was surprising in such a stocky man.

“What have you done?!” he roared.

The Doctor blinked owlishly – Cuthbert’s eyes were almost popping out of his skull – and felt the urge to giggle despite the circumstances.

“What have you done?!” Crofton repeated even more forcefully. The Doctor marvelled yet again at the shorter man’s ability to tower over much taller people.

“Reprogrammed the androids with a delayed command,” he said calmly. “I’m afraid they’re not following your orders any more. Can’t be controlled from here at all, actually,” he added, shaking his head.

“You won’t get away with it. You’ll be paying dearly, with every minute of your existence,” Crofton hissed. “Oh, Doctor, I’ll make you suffer – as much as you can bear and then some,” he promised.

“Well, that’ll be a nice diversion, I suppose.”

Letting the Doctor go, Cuthbert stepped away from him. He was breathing heavily, as though he’d run a mile, but the frenzy in his eyes was already giving way to his usual calm.

“We’ve had a deal, Doctor, and you violated it,” he reminded flatly. “Such actions never go unpunished. Bring in the slaves!”

The Doctor looked up, swallowing around a lump in his throat. “Cuthbert, they’re not to blame. Do with me whatever you want. Torture me, kill me, make me your slave, but let them go. I implore you.”

“Oh Doctor, do you really think I’m going to consider your wishes?” Crofton said, pursing his mouth in disgust. “You thought you’d make a fool of me and bear no consequences? All our dedication, our work, all that money – wasted! And I’ve even double-checked everything myself, I have!” he roared. “Three of my best programmers have gone over every single line of your code with a fine-tooth comb before dispatching the androids for the attack. How did you do it, you bastard?”

“Apparently the comb was not fine enough after all.”

The Doctor barely paid attention to the next bout of Crofton’s raging. Cuthbert was pacing the chamber in agitation, first shouting, then muttering curses under his breath. By the time Lemm shoved Hennis carrying Tish into the cave, he’d been waiting for them calmly in the patch of daylight.

“You’ve led me to believe that a Time Lord’s word is worth something,” Cuthbert said softly. “Well, in this case, we’ll have to start over with the basics. One of these slaves is going to die today.” He paused long enough for everybody to register his meaning then continued, “And you’ll have to choose which one.”

The Doctor’s eyes widened in alarm. “What?”

“I suggest you pick the one to stay alive,” Crofton repeated.

“But this is monstrous!” the Doctor cried. “You can’t be asking such things. It’s insane, absolutely insane!”

Cuthbert locked his fingers behind his back, spared the slaves a disdainful glance and asked patiently, “Are you going to accept my offer?”

“No!” the Doctor yelled.

Crofton shrugged indifferently. He circled Hennis and Tish, looking at them intently, as though studying a pricey piece of furniture. The slaves were warily following his movements with their eyes.

“Fine then,” Cuthbert said at last with an affected air of resignation. “We’ll have to kill them both.”

“Come on, medical man, use your head,” Hennis butted in softly, rising from the floor. “You know what you’ve gotta do.”

Tish grabbed him by the hem of his robe and dragged him down again. “Hennis, no!” she cried, looking up to the Doctor beseechingly. “Please save him. Please! I don’t want to live without him!”

Her large grey eyes stood out on her ashen face. They were filled with tears and looked prettier for it – rather unusually for a woman. They were shining so brightly with her fervent plea that the Doctor felt as though he could catch fire and burn up at any moment. That wouldn’t be too bad an outcome. He knew that a different set of eyes, in honey-brown, could focus on him with the same intensity.

“Doctor,” Cuthbert urged him, “take your pick.”

Two equally demanding stares cornered the Doctor, leaving him no way out. His chin was shaking, but he couldn’t form any words no matter how hard he tried. He didn’t know what he was trying to say anyway.

“Remember what I told you, medical man?” Hennis reminded him. “You’ve got smarts, you know what to do. Come on, make the right choice.”

“Well?” Crofton pressed on. “Doctor?”

The Doctor shouted before he even knew it, “Don’t touch Tish, let her go! Cuthbert, please, let her go!”

Crofton smiled frostily. “Lemm, kill the man.”

The Doctor didn’t see anything during the next few seconds but heard it very clearly. There was the girl’s heart-wrenching cry, a soft pressing of wet lips, some rustling, a brief commotion, a blow, and finally a hoarse, “Well done, medical man.” By the time he dared to open his wet eyes, Cuthbert and the guards had disappeared from the cavern.

Tish was sobbing loudly, holding Hennis’ lifeless body in her arms. Her slender form was shaking violently with tears.

“How could you do that?” she was murmuring in a croaky voice, her eyes screwed shut. “How could you? Oh, Hennis...”

The Doctor didn’t know whom she was talking to until she whispered, pressing her lips to the top of Hennis’ head, “How could you leave me alone? What were you thinking?”

She settled his curly head on her chest and was rocking him softly from side to side, caressing his uncombed hair gently, just as Hennis had done a few nights ago. One could believe he was merely sleeping. The Doctor flinched when he realized that Tish’s murmured words were creating a melody.

_It is the coldest before dawn,_

_The stars blinked out, the path is dark._

_Have patience, my beloved, and know:_

_Past worst o’ nights_

_Bright day will spark._

Her voice was soft and hoarse from crying, but the song was flowing steadily from her lips. The odd, unexplainable warmth the Doctor had felt when Hennis had been singing before, spread out in the cavern again, wrapping the two people in the cocoon of safety, leaving everything but them outside.

“I want to die,” Tish said with a surprising clarity once she finished singing. The Doctor looked up at her and she went on, “Don’t want to live without him. There’s no point.”

Her eyes were fixed blindly somewhere at the other end of the cavern.

“You mustn’t,” said the Doctor. “Hennis gave his life for you to live on. He wouldn’t want to see you die.”

“I don’t care what I must or must not!” she cried angrily. “You both think you know best and can decide for everybody. How can I go on living without him? Do you even understand what he was for me, what I had been before I met him? Hennis made my life worth living. How can you make decisions about things you’ve no slightest idea about?”

The Doctor opened his mouth to argue but immediately closed it, cutting off abruptly. Tish was looking at him with an immeasurable sadness, but there was something else in her eyes, something he hadn’t noticed before.

“You’re right about one thing,” he nodded. “He’s really changed you. Look at how strong you’ve become.”

Tish smiled mirthlessly. “I had strength when he was with me. I don’t need it alone.”


	16. Before Dawn

_Days 725-726_

The Doctor feebly pushed himself off the floor, his arms barely following his brain’s commands. He didn’t know day from night any more, what with the last few days flowing into each other as they had. It was surprisingly easy to endure. It’s not really hard to stand the pain when you know you can’t do anything to stop it. Besides, he thought privately, it alleviated the guilt. Rose’s people didn’t believe in purgatory for nothing. He’d been dreaming of her, often. His weak, tortured, starved body demanded recuperation so the Doctor took to sleeping a lot.

Cuthbert’s ardour was waning. He was never able to stay angry for long, so Lemm’s visits – he’d grasped the basics of his new assignment with an astonishing speed – became less frequent after the second day. Nobody had been to the cave for quite a while now, so the Doctor flinched at the sound of the door opening and had to squint when the ray of sun found him on the floor.

The Time Lord’s natural ability to heal quickly had served him well: grabbing the bars and hauling himself up, he managed to stand with a relative ease. Crofton stood in the corridor, flanked by Lemm, Yustor and a Proximian the Doctor had never met before.

“He’s a doctor. Of medicine,” Cuthbert explained. “He’ll examine you.”

The Doctor smiled wryly. “How come?”

Crofton contemplated an answer but eventually decided not to say anything. He stepped back, allowing the guards to open the bars and let the healer in. The Doctor’s eyes lingered on Yustor: the guard was always avoiding eye contact when nearby.

Apparently, the cave’s illumination could be frighteningly bright; it just had been kept down to a minimum. Cuthbert was present during the whole time it took the healer to treat the emaciated captive’s broken skin and bruising.

“The bones are fine,” the healer said. “Don’t bother him for a while and he’ll get better.”

He popped his gloves off his chubby hands, rose to his feet, dusted his knees off and left the cell. With a groan, the Doctor rolled to face the bars – he’d apparently overestimated the limits of his protesting body.

“What about Tish?” he asked.

“Tish?” Crofton narrowed his eyes in surprise then understood and nodded. “Oh, the girl. Getting better. The healer’s monitoring her.”

“Cuthbert, let her go,” the Doctor pleaded.

“You know now how this game works, and there are plenty of other slaves where this one came from, so I don’t really care. She can go whenever she likes.”

The Doctor frowned. “Really?” he asked in disbelief.

“What else do you want me to say? I think that was clear enough. It’s just one thing I’m not getting,” he added after a brief pause. “Do you really, really treasure her life so much? Do you really think their lives can be worth anything at all? The lives of slaves that are empty but for the service to their master?”

“If you spent a few minutes observing these people, Cuthbert, you’d find their lives more precious than your own,” the Doctor said softly.

Cuthbert waved his hand. His face was gloomy and looked wrong and alien for it. He usually sported a self-satisfied smirk or burning anger. Other expressions simply didn’t seem to fit. “Will you be needing anything else?” he asked shortly.

The Doctor rose from the floor. “My suit,” he nodded.

Cuthbert turned to him in surprise, thinking he must have misheard. “Pardon me?”

“My suit. It was taken when I got the fresh set of clothes. I want it back.”

Crofton looked taken aback but nodded to the guard indifferently. “Get him his rags.”

He exited the cave without turning or looking at the prisoner, just motioning for the others to follow him. The lock clicked on the other side and the Doctor was alone again.

***

Getting to Alerto wasn’t easy, even less so with a broken leg. The slaves that had managed to procure maps and had a little local knowledge usually took the shortcut across the mountains. All others tried to get to the next settlement, hoping for help. Hennis had been taking no risks when they’d run away, but Tish was free to go anywhere with the note Crofton had provided.

A supply lorry dropped her off not far away from Alerto’s centre, where the barricade had stood. The street was cleared up now, and only a few damaged buildings and some holes in the ground where the dynamite had gone off reminded of the recent attack. Bracing herself on a crutch, the girl looked around warily and followed the loader into the shop.

“Bring the boxes in here, the back door’s still blocked up with rubble,” a skinny woman with neatly done hair said. Then her clever eyes landed on the girl. “Are you new here?” Dalma asked knowingly. Tish nodded. “Got any friends in Alerto?”

“No,” she replied. “I just thought it would be best to come here.”

Dalma was at her side in two long strides. She caringly wrapped her arm around the girl’s middle and led her to the door. “Good thinking. It’s safe here. Come on, I’ll take you to the house.”

Dalma told the teenage cashier to manage the delivery and helped Tish to get to the headquarters. Having never been outside of the tiny town of Yamshee, the newly freed slave was looking around with curiosity. Had she seen Alerto several days ago, she wouldn’t have recognized it now. Happy people were gathering in small groups on the streets to chat and laugh; mothers weren’t calling back their children from going outside; people were cleaning windows and sweeping their doorsteps. Dalma let the girl take it all in without bothering her with questions.

Aled and Professor Ktalush were tinkering with one of the androids in the kitchen. Its parts were strewn across the table and on the floor, but the men hadn’t heeded Dalma’s advice to be more careful lest they lost something. They’d been just waving her off, burying themselves even deeper in the workings of the solar panel. Rose was sitting on the table next to them, dangling her legs.

“Hello everybody,” said Dalma. “Meet Tish. She’s just arrived.”

The three of them stopped working and turned to the girl to say hi.

Dalma introduced them. “This is Professor Ktalush, Aled and Rose.”

Tish waved self-consciously with her crutch-free hand. Rose hopped off the table and offered her hand for a handshake. Tish had seen the Doctor using this gesture so she didn’t hesitate to shake the hand lightly. Her eyes lingered on Rose for a second: she wasn’t taller than the others but the colour of her skin, hair and eyes stood out.

“Hello,” Rose said. “You’re probably hungry?”

Tish shrugged shyly. Rose led her to the table, helped her to sit on the bench and went to dig through the cupboards for food. Dalma never minded: her and Rodrick’s house had become the only home and refuge to many others.

“Where are you from?” Aled asked.

Tish ripped off a tiny piece of cold flatbread and slowly put it into her mouth. She was hungry but too self-conscious to fall over the food in presence of her new friends. “From Yamshee. I came here with a lorry.”

“Ran away?” Aled asked, looking at her injured leg with doubt.

Following the direction of his eyes, Tish drew her head in and blushed. “No,” she said in a constrained voice. “I’ve been freed.”

Aled frowned in disbelief. “What do you mean – freed?”

Professor Ktalush, Dalma and Rose shared a glance.

“There was a man who helped me get out. He sort of made a deal.”

“He remained there instead of you?” Aled guessed and snorted. “That’s noble.”

“No,” she shook her head. “It’s... it’s a long story.”

Dalma stepped forward and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Don’t bother our guest any more. We should let her rest.”

“At least tell us who you’ve been working for,” asked Aled.

Tish looked around furtively, as though she was about to say something she could be punished for. “For Master Butassa,” she whispered.

The four others flinched.

“And he’s freed you?” Aled asked to make sure. “When did you see him last?”

“Yesterday,” she shrugged.

Rose jumped off her chair in agitation. “Have you seen a man there – looking like me, tall, with brown hair?”

“The Doctor?” Tish clarified. “Yes, he was the one who helped me get out.”

“He’s out there!” Rose exclaimed. “Aled, Dalma, Professor Ktalush! He’s out there!”

The news of the newly arrived had spread quickly in Alerto. The rebels barely let Tish rest, despite Dalma’s insistence. Tish told the council everything she could.

Rodrick had problems following Rose with his eyes – she was pacing madly across the kitchen. “We’ve got to go there at once and get him out!”

“Listen to me,” Rodrick attempted to calm her down. “We can’t just up and rush there. We’ve got to think it through first.”

“There’s nothing to think through!” she replied angrily. “Tish can draw the plan of his base. There’re many of us, we’ve got androids, we can go there right now!”

“And what if he’s not there any more? What if we attack and Butassa blackmails us with him?”

Rose stopped short. “But Rodrick, he’s saved us,” she said in a softer voice. “We can’t just sit here doing nothing.”

Rodrick sighed and half-hugged her shoulders in a fatherly way. “Remember what I told you your first day here? We’ll definitely find him and get him out of there. We just have to plan it really carefully, alright?”

Rose nodded reluctantly. She noticed Aled’s watching her steadily. Judging by the glint in his eyes, he was up to something.

_Day 727_

The Doctor didn’t know what to expect when the door squeaked again. Cuthbert was prone to going from wrathful to well disposed faster than the Doctor could adjust to these mood swings. His only advantage compared to the previous day was that the dull pain in his body was receding and his movements didn’t result in agony any more. Even his swollen face, full of itchy bristle now, was returning to its normal shape.

However, no matter how hard the Doctor tried to guess the meaning of the door squeaking this time, the visitor managed to surprise him. Yustor was standing in front of the cell – alone and shaking all over.

The Doctor looked up and fixed the guard with a searching stare. It was easy enough to scare Yustor even from behind the bars: the Doctor just had to look at him.

“We’ve got little time,” Yustor mumbled, having apparent difficulties with moving his tongue properly. “It’ll be dawn soon, they’ll realize I’m missing.”

The Doctor blinked in surprise. “What do you mean, missing?”

Yustor stalled, not sure how to say why he’d come. Then he stood taller and said decisively, “We’ve got to leg it before it’s too late, Doctor. It’s mental, really mental – what they’re doing here. Master Butassa and Lemm, I mean.”

“And you’re coming to senses only now?” the Doctor asked incredulously.

Yustor shuffled his feet. “Haven’t seen such horrors in my life,” he admitted at last.

“Your partner appears to be really creative about it.”

“Yeah, he’s gone mad. As sure as I’m standing here,” Yustor muttered. He began unlocking the bars with shaking hands. “I’m so sorry, Doctor. About everything they’ve done to you, about the girl, about that slave... Can’t bear it any more. Please, Doctor, come with me. I’ll help you get out of here.”

The Doctor rose to his feet with a grunt. “So have you decided to free me out of the goodness of your heart or just because you’re too much of a chicken to run away alone?” he asked wryly. The Doctor had missed that – he hadn’t had much room for sarcasm in his conversations with Crofton recently.

He immediately regretted his words, seeing Yustor cowering away. The guard appeared frightened to death and probably thought that the Doctor was about to rat on him to Butassa.

“Ah, come on. Your boss is just an idiot with a delusion of grandeur,” the Doctor wrinkled his nose.

The guard drew himself up, ready to defend his protector’s honour out of habit, but came to his senses quickly and shook his head. “There’s a car a short walk away,” he said, leading the Doctor out into the cool night air. “It’ll get us to Alerto.”

“Alerto...” the Doctor rolled his eyes. “What’s so special about Alerto? Why is everybody so keen to get there?”

Yustor shrugged. “We know that all rebel attacks originate from there. All slaves run to that town, so it must be safe there. Besides...” he hesitated.

“What?” the Doctor urged him on.

“If Miss Tyler survived, she’ll probably be there.”

The Doctor froze. He hadn’t thought about that. After weeks upon weeks of being totally helpless and cut off from the news the urge to find Rose, to know she was alive had stopped registering as anything real and doable in the short term.

“Do you know anything about what happened after the explosion in the mines?”

Yustor shook his head. “We never went back there,” he said shortly.

The car waiting for them on the road was tiny and extremely uncomfortable inside, but on the plus side, with its engine and four wheels it was much better than nothing. Yustor had been looking back cowardly all the time they’d been walking the stony path and didn’t dare to turn on the headlights. Meaning they were driving almost blindly now.

The Doctor wanted to say that they were much more likely to attract unwanted attention this way, but Yustor’s knuckles were white where he was gripping the steering wheel and he was peering through the windshield so intently that distracting him could be dangerous, lest they’d hit something or even tip over.

The sun was rising in the direction of Alerto, blinding them with its yellow and pink rays. There were rather few vehicles on the stone-paved road, but Yustor shrunk into his seat every time they saw one in the distance. They’d rushed through several small settlements and passed a city on a bypass road when an indicator in the car let them know that its battery was nearing depletion.

“Got a spare?” the Doctor asked.

Yustor shook his head. “No. We’ll have to stop somewhere.”

The Doctor sighed and bumped his head against the headrest. They were not slaves so the danger of them being apprehended and brought back to Crofton by zealous government supporters was relatively small. However, Yustor’s anxiety was getting to him. The guard shifted nervously in his seat before stopping at a service station and getting out. The Doctor followed him with his eyes.

Yustor came back a couple minutes later, shaking his head. “They’ve got no more noctone and they say we won’t find any within one hour’s driving distance from here,” he muttered.

“Is it far to Alerto?”

“On a road like this – one and a half hours. We’ve got the battery for forty, fifty minutes at most.”

“Well,” the Doctor clapped his hands, “Looks like we’ll be making the rest of the way on foot.”

They hadn’t known that Yustor’s improvidence would turn out to be a blessing. They’d spotted a checkpoint only ten minutes into their walk. Two guards were manning it with guns that looked more futuristic than the rebels could have procured. The Doctor and Yustor exchanged glances.

“We’ll have to take route over the hills,” the Doctor said. “Hennis showed me the way. It shouldn’t be far if we make a beeline for it.”

Yustor nodded.

***

Aled had a plan. If he couldn’t rush in and blow up stuff, he had to be sneaky. Inspired by Rose’s story of her attempted escape from the mines (overly optimistic Aled decided not to linger on the fact that it had been a failed attempt), he wanted to sneak into the base quietly. Nobody liked this idea apart from Rose.

“But it doesn’t have to be an attack!” he argued. “We just dash there and back. What do we have to lose?”

“People, Aled,” Rodrick explained patiently once again.

Rose jumped to her feet. “Then I’ll go alone!” she offered hotly.

“What people are you talking about...” Aled scowled, throwing back his head in frustration. “Rose and I can have a look-see alone. The fewer of us the easier.”

“A look-see!” Rodrick exclaimed incredulously. “A look-see! It’s all games and fun for you! Don’t you get how dangerous it is?”

Aled’s face changed instantly. It became grimmer and more angular, even hostile. The excitement from a few minutes ago completely vanished from his voice.

“If you care to remember, it was me who had ‘a look-see’ on Kepler and found out about the batteries they were making in the mines. If my ‘games and fun’ deliver results, then I should be free to do as I please,” he said coolly.

Rodrick put up his hands in a peaceful gesture. “Nobody’s questioning your results, Aled. All I’m saying is that we’ve got to do it together when we’re ready.”

“We’ll never be ready and the Doctor might be dying right now – if he’s not dead yet!” Rose argued. “Can you imagine what they did to him when they learned about the androids?”

Rodrick blew out a breath and lowered his head in defeat. “You two are the loonies all revolutions rely upon,” he muttered into his beard. The conspirators beamed and exchanged a triumphant glance.

“Does it mean we can take the truck?” Aled clarified cautiously.

The Commander looked at him with all the severity he could muster. It should be said that Dalma was never impressed by his attempts at intimidation – same held true for other people who’d known Rodrick for more than five minutes. His authority among the rebels wouldn’t have held long if not for his clear-headed thoughtfulness that had been a welcome change from Nilosa’s heated vigour at that stage of the war.

“It means,” he enunciated, “that you’ve got to grab maps, weapons, fuel and cash and leg it before your sister finds out what you’re up to.”

Aled smirked. “So you’ll manage Dal? That’s already half the trouble!” he giggled boyishly. Rodrick couldn’t help giving him a nice smack on the head.

“I don’t want to see a scratch on you when you’re back, is that clear?”

They left quietly when the house was empty but for Chinne playing with her toys. Rodrick closed the driver’s door behind Aled and said, “Remember, you two. I’m letting you go only because nobody else in their right mind could pull that off. If anything happens to you, it’ll be forever on my conscience.”

Aled rolled his eyes. “We don’t wanna burden it with such a weight,  now do we?” he said mockingly.

The truck rolled out onto the main street – the only one paved with stone while the others were just paths in the sand. It led through several neighbouring villages, bypassing the governmental checkpoint, to Yamshee. Aled speeded past Dalma’s shop just in case, craning his neck furtively to make sure his sister didn’t notice their escape.

The road got worse outside the town. The truck jumped on a pothole and Rose had to brace herself against the windshield to stay put. She didn’t even register at first what exactly had her yelling, “Oh god! Aled, stop the truck!”

Startled, Aled stepped on the brakes so hard that the truck swerved and almost rolled over. Rose pulled the latch and jumped out the second it came to a halt. Two shapes were visible in the distance, where the hills met the sky on the horizon. She’d have to lose her mind or her memory to fail to recognize one of them.


	17. The Eve of Equinox

The sun was setting. Apparently, they’d been walking the whole day long. The sand beneath their feet was so hot that the soles of the Doctor’s shoes were about to melt. After hours and hours of walking, he felt like dropping dead in the middle of the desert even though his Gallifreyan physiology could usually withstand heat and cold without any problem.

Yustor was faring better. A Proximian born and bred, he was used to the scorching sun and kept insisting that it was not as hot as it could have been. The Doctor hung his head. The hills seemed to stretch endlessly and the travellers had to admit they’d probably lost their way.

The hot desert wind picked up by the evening, whistling in their ears and blinding them with sand. That was the downside of being a Time Lord – while resilient inside, his body was as poorly protected from external influences as that of a human.

The travellers hadn’t stopped for a rest. Proximian deserts didn’t cool down at night as dramatically as deserts on Earth, but Yustor and the Doctor had run out of water and food and wanted to reach civilization as soon as possible, be it Alerto or any other town.

The sun was almost teasing them. It would inch towards the horizon then stop as though deliberating. The hot disk was painful to look at. Its bright-red rays were apparently striving to give off as much heat as possible before disappearing for the night. The men’s heads were aching from walking under the blazing sun for so long. The Doctor wouldn’t be surprised to find himself turned blond if he ever happened across a mirror again. His clothes felt like they’d remain stuck to his body for all eternity.

When a different sound mixed into the whistling of the wind, the Doctor thought he must have misheard – not even a bird chanced a flight across the barren sands. But he kept hearing it again and again until it formed into a distant, “Doctor!” Startled, he jerked his head up, not seeing anything at first but the endless hills shimmering before his eyes.

Eventually, he realized he couldn’t be mistaken: what he’d thought to be a trick of wind and his vivid imagination, slowly but surely morphed into Rose’s hoarse cry that was getting closer and clearer by the minute. When she appeared from behind a hilltop and the Doctor’s tired, barely focusing eyes latched onto her, he felt like his legs got stuck in quicksand.

Stumbling, sinking knee-deep into the hot sand and pushing herself up and forward again, Rose was running towards them from the other side of the valley. It was as though she’d become a sandstorm herself – she was coming closer with swift determination in a cloud of sand and flyaway hair, not minding anything around her. Just a few seconds ago the Doctor didn’t think he’d have it in him to run.

The soft sand offered only a precarious footing, so Rose and the Doctor wouldn’t have been able to keep their balance or stop in time even if they tried. Grabbing each other by the shoulders, they slammed into one another with a force that expelled air from their overtaxed lungs, and fell down in a heap.

In a flurry of reddened cheeks, hands and lips Rose appeared alive and well and perfect in his arms. He felt she’d slip away like a mirage if he held her not tightly enough; he feared she’d break if he held her even a tiny bit closer. ‘Rose, Rose, Rose,’ was screaming in his head, but he couldn’t utter a sound in his sudden numbness.

“You’re here, Doctor, you’re alive.”

Rose was so close that his own body was shaking with her tears. The Doctor was kissing her blindly, with his eyes squeezed shut – her wet cheeks, burning forehead, salty lips, the soft hair on the top of her head that smelled like a local flower. It was easier to kiss than to say something comforting in return – his throat had constricted and it was burning almost as much as his shut eyes.

Rose buried her face in his chest, clutching his shirt’s collar. Suddenly she began to laugh. “You’ve kept the suit,” she said, her voice warm and slightly oozy from tears. “I’ve lost my stuff already on Kepler.”

The Doctor shuddered and his hearts did a happy little flip. It had been only one Earth month but he was already starting to forget how it felt to be next to Rose.

“Well, it holds too many fond memories,” he smiled.

Suddenly her face darkened again. Trying hard to stop her chin from trembling, Rose touched his cheek – slowly, with a shaking hand. The Doctor jerked away involuntarily, his skin still too tender to touch.

“What have they done to you?” she whispered brokenly.

The Doctor gave her a warm half-smile. “That’s nothing, I’m alright.”

Rose pressed her mouth into a thin line and shook her head silently but with such a force that her tousled hair whipped around her face.

“It’s alright, Rose. Everything’s fine now,” the Doctor promised.

His careful palm covered her cheek tenderly, his fingers ghosting over the slightly chapped skin, and Rose leaned into the touch instinctively. She felt as if hypnotized – her eyes were still mostly blind with tears but she was reluctant to blink them away. The Doctor closed his eyes and slowly, softly pressed his lips to hers – feeling her with the whole of his skin rather than just his mouth.

Rose squeezed her eyes shut, let out her breath loudly, drew him closer by his neck – and the belated tears fell down from her eyelashes, tasting tartly like the sea. The Doctor couldn’t help it. With a choked moan, he closed his arms around her waist and kissed her parted lips with fervour. He hadn’t kissed anybody like that in an impossibly long time.

Something in his chest above the solar plexus flared with acrid, burning shame and his only salvation was to lean in closer still, to hide in the cocoon of warm, devoted hands. When they had to part for air, the Doctor couldn’t make himself look her in the eye.

Their position was rather uncomfortable: they were both on their knees, Rose’s arm was clamped between their bodies and probably numb, and there was a heat – the kind that scorched and not soothed – inside and out. The Doctor had to say something before he ruined it forever – that precious thing he hadn’t allowed himself to think of in earnest for a long time.

“I’ve missed you. I’ve missed you so much, Rose,” he said in a brittle voice. Words were getting stuck in his throat painfully and made his chest ache.

“I was afraid you were there, in that building, when it exploded,” Rose admitted, her nose buried in the crook of his neck. Her fingers curled into a tight fist around the fabric of his shirt, wet with his sweat and probably her tears, and Rose uttered a sob. The Doctor felt rather than heard it. Rose had cried rarely and the sound was quite unfamiliar to him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. He wanted to turn it into a joke, to fix everything he’d broken but couldn’t think of anything flippant to say.

Rose took a breath to say something but changed her mind. She freed her arm instead and hugged him closer. The Doctor’s fingers began untangling her hair of their own volition.

“How are you?” he asked softly.

Rose smiled. “I’m fine. Gone native but for my colouring.”

“Rose Tyler. Adapting anywhere and everywhere.”

“Sounds like an advert,” she laughed.

The Doctor sniggered too – an airy, happy laugh escaping his chest and cleansing, soothing his frayed hearts. The heaviness receded – it always receded should Rose wish so, even unconsciously.

“So, it seems we’re somewhere near Alerto?” he asked when his voice became steadier. The reality around him was beginning to take shape. He could see mountains again, and hills, and the setting sun as well as sand and finally two people standing at some distance.

Rose nodded. “Yeah. Come on, we’ve got to take care of you as long as you can still stand.”

She rose to her feet first, extended her hand to the Doctor and turned to Aled. One more Proximian was standing next to him, fumbling with the sleeves of his robe nervously. Rose wanted to say hi but Aled was faster. Smirking, he came closer and gave the Doctor a friendly slap on his shoulder.

“Great to see you. You look like shit,” he informed the Doctor without beating around the bush.

The Doctor arched his eyebrow. “Ta,” he said shortly but Aled saw one corner of his mouth lifting in a matching smirk. “I trust the Kepler base is damaged beyond repair?”

“Yep,” Aled nodded merrily. “Rose and I were on our way to get you out of Yamshee. We’ve almost missed each other.”

Rose grasped the Doctor’s sleeve tightly. She hadn’t realized before that moment that they could’ve simply switched places.

“By the way, great thinking with the androids. You’ve saved our hides.”

The Doctor snorted. “Anytime.”

When the four of them came back to Alerto, Aled was the first to enter the house. He slinked into the kitchen where Dalma’s furious voice was coming from. His and Rose’s disappearance hadn’t gone unnoticed.

“How could you let them go? How could you?!”

Dalma was shouting and hitting her husband’s chest fervently. Her usually coiffed hair came undone, her face turned red and her voice was bordering on hysterical. Rodrick was staring at her forlornly, not even trying to protect himself from the blows.

“Dal, I – ”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!”

Having seen enough, Aled cleared his throat loudly. Two pairs of surprised eyes locked onto him.

“I’m not interrupting anything?”

Dalma froze with her fist poised mid air and remained a statue for a couple of seconds. Then all her wrath turned on Aled.

“What have you been thinking, you moron?”

Aled shrugged nonchalantly. “We’re fine, everything’s alright.”

Only then it sunk in for Dalma and Rodrick. They exchanged confused glances.

“Look who else’s here,” Aled smiled mysteriously and stepped away from the door to let the others in.

“Uhm, hello,” the Doctor waved.

Dal and Rodrick looked at each other again but understood what had happened thanks to Rose’s happy smile. Their eyes widened in astonishment, jumping between the four newcomers in turn. Rose and the Doctor were holding hands tightly – impossible to break them apart.

Scruffy and bruised, so emaciated that even his skinny suit was hanging on him as if on a hanger, the Doctor was standing in front of the hosts and smiling. Rodrick shook his head and came forward first to touch his elbow in greeting.

“Glad to meet you, Doctor. I’m Rodrick and this is Dalma, my wife. You’ve no idea how happy we are to see you alive.”

“You’re a local hero, Doctor,” Aled smirked.

Dalma shook her finger at him. “I’m not done with you yet,” she said sternly.

Aled raised his hands in mock surrender and, stealing a glance at the Doctor, rolled his eyes.

“That’s my sister,” he clarified peevishly.

“Doctor, won’t you introduce your friend?” asked Dalma, nodding towards the quite forgotten Yustor.

The guard had relaxed a little in his darkened corner so he jumped when he suddenly became the centre of attention, but the Doctor reassured him with a short nod.

“That’s Yustor. We escaped from Yamshee together this morning.”

Yustor’s jaw went slack. He was barely able to believe that the Doctor was in no hurry to reveal the particulars of his position in Crofton’s organisation.

Dalma put up her hands. “If we go on like this, we’ll have to sleep people on the floor!” she said but her voice was humorous and friendly. Yustor squeezed out an uncertain smile. She continued, “Rose, let’s see what we can get them to eat. I haven’t even brought anything from the shop!”

It became dark in these parts of Proxima almost instantly. The sun always stubbornly lingered on the horizon but then disappeared like somebody killed the switch. Not all windows in Alerto had light in them. A lot of people favoured candles while others went to bed with the sunset to get up at dawn. The war and the necessity changed life in towns outside the war territory too.

An old lantern was always burning on Dalma’s kitchen up until midnight. People gathered there to while away long evenings – not only the refugees living in the house but others too. There were no cafes, clubs or pubs in Alerto so such hospital houses were the best places to meet up. Their doors weren’t locked even at night.

All inhabitants of the house returned home for the night. Thanks to Aled and Rose spreading the news earlier, the whole town had learned about the man sabotaging Butassa’s androids, so the Doctor and his companion were welcomed in the warmest Proximian fashion – until Tish entered the kitchen, tapping with her crutch.

She quickly spotted Yustor hiding in the corner, right after exchanging a few words with the Doctor. She blanched and shrunk away so abruptly that she almost bumped into a wall. The Doctor followed her eyes.

“Don’t be afraid, Tish, he won’t harm you,” he said with persuasion.

The others went quiet, watching the scene unfold with interest. The turncoat humped his shoulders and would gladly disappear on the spot.

“Yustor was one of Butassa’s guards,” the Doctor explained calmly before Tish could say anything. “He helped me to escape.”

Yustor sighed: it was a relief to feel somebody’s protection.

“But he killed Hennis,” Tish said, trying hard not to cry.

There was a dozen of surprised stares. The Doctor shook his head. “That wasn’t him.”

“Doesn’t matter!” Tish cried. “He was on their side!”

“What’s going on, for – ” somebody began but the Doctor rose to his feet and propped himself on the table with his fists. The air in the kitchen was crackling with energy. While Rodrick, Dalma and Professor Ktalush were more than open-minded, other inhabitants of the house couldn’t have liked what they’d just heard.

“Yes, and now he’s on our side, and the information he can provide is more valuable than any recon,” the Doctor said with determination.

“So, ready to rat on your precious employers?” Aled crossed his arms in front of his chest.

Yustor had no choice but enter the conversation now. Having glanced at the Doctor and got his silent support, he replied carefully, “There’s no going back for me.”

His voice, as dry and feeble as his body, quavered treacherously. For some reason, Yustor looked much younger than he was despite his sickly pallor from staying in the caves and his awkward lankiness.

“How do we know they didn’t send you to spy on us?” asked one of the former slaves.

“Yeah, why do we have to trust him?”

Yustor opened his mouth but closed it without saying anything. Angular, hostile faces of the rebels turned towards him from all sides, forcing him deeper into his favoured corner. The Doctor cleared his throat.

“I’m loathe to sound too full of myself, but they’d have to be complete idiots to use me for planting good old Yustor here. Not that I don’t appreciate his exceptional bravery, however I’m afraid his talent as a spy is quite limited,” he said wryly.

“The Doctor’s right,” Rodrick agreed. “He threw a wrench in Butassa’s work. They wouldn’t set him free so easily.”

“Alright then,” said Dalma. “Time for bed, everyone. Tomorrow’s a big day.”

“What’s tomorrow?” the Doctor asked, curious. Rose looked up with interest too.

Aled laughed. “You’re obviously from a different planet. Tomorrow’s Equinox, the greatest feast of the year.”

“The stars are always favourable on that day,” Dalma added. “But apparently they’ve been favourable to some of us already today.”

The Doctor and Rose looked at each other with a smile and went up the rickety wooden stairs, still holding hands.

Several minutes later the Doctor entered their room fresh as a daisy, running his hand over his shaved cheeks appreciatively.

“Welcome back,” Rose laughed.

It was always strange to see him look different – differently clothed or unshaven or wearing respectable shoes instead of his plimsolls. Rose thought it was easier to grow accustomed to his new face than to the robes he’d been wearing occasionally on Kepler.

“The most annoying thing about captivity is the lack of personal hygiene,” the Doctor said. “Can you imagine what’d happen if my hair was growing, like in humans?” he mocked.

Rose lobbed him with Chinne’s bundled and corded baby blanket that she was using as a pillow. “You’re being rude to other species again!”

“Oy!” the Doctor took on the air of indignation. “Dame Rose, your manners around injured Time Lords haven’t improved one bit in my absence!”

“Well then, it’s good you’re back since your absence has affected me so adversely,” she countered.

“Rose Tyler, you’re a shameless flirt,” the Doctor grinned, sitting down on the mattress next to her. “When have you managed to pick it all up?”

Rose propped herself on her elbow and smiled slyly, showing a tip of her tongue between her teeth. “I’ve learned from the best.”

They put out the candle, but the bright moon and the millions of stars twinkling in the unpolluted sky above Alerto gave off so much light that it didn’t really become much darker in the room. The bed was narrow, so Rose slipped under the Doctor’s arm without hesitation and settled her head on his chest. They’d shared a bed rather often – their adventures dictating odd sleeping accommodations even in the time of floppy ears and leather jackets – so it felt as natural as holding each other’s hand.

The Doctor held her a little closer to his side and brushed away the tresses from her face without thinking. Rose mumbled, “Hard to believe so much time has passed since we’ve been to Earth.”

The Doctor sighed. “I’m so sorry, Rose. We can’t even leave this planet.”

She shook with a soundless laugh and looked him in the eye. “But would we leave if we had the TARDIS?” she asked.

The Doctor smiled softly. “No, we wouldn’t.”

“Well, at least we’re together,” she murmured sleepily into his chest.

“Right.”

The Doctor lowered his eyelids. The guilt and the echoes of what he’d lived through during these recent weeks had been weighing him down again since the candle had flickered out and the commotion in the house had quieted down. He didn’t know whether he had the right to burden Rose with them.

“Doctor,” she called.

Even if he’d have remembered his bypass respiratory system, his hearts would still be beating frantically right beneath her ear. Rose propped herself on her outstretched arm and stared at him from above. He saw that she was choosing her words slowly and carefully.

“No matter what happened there, at Crofton’s base,” she began tentatively, “it’s over. He can’t harm any of us any more. It’ll all be over soon, now that the rebels have the androids.”

The Doctor smiled tightly. “Yet another war, won with our help. We’re sticking our noses into other planets’ internal affairs quite often, don't you think?” he asked.

Rose looked at him earnestly, making a show of considering his words. “What an awful abuse of time travellers’ privileges.”

The tension was gone as quickly as it had flooded the room. Rose exhaled with a lazy groan and rested her head on the Doctor’s shoulder again. Something smelled like honey and she couldn’t figure out what it was until she realized it was his skin.

“Everything alright?” Rose asked just in case.

“Sure.”

Her breath was evening out after a sweet yawn, slowing down into sleep. She always had the astonishing ability to sleep soundly even in risky situations, as though never really believing that anything bad could befall them. Only then the Doctor decided to speak up, the cowardly and stubborn portion of his mind hoping she wouldn’t hear him. “Rose.”

“Hmm?” she muttered sleepily, opening her eyes with effort but not lifting her head. Fair enough: the Doctor didn’t know whether he could continue if she looked him in the eye.

“Rose, I...”

“Come on, Doctor. What is it?” she asked soothingly.

He swallowed around a lump in his throat. “I killed Hennis, Rose.”

She froze for a second then sat up decisively, tucking her legs beneath her. The Doctor, still on his back, propped himself on his elbows awkwardly and scooted up to the wall, this somewhat vertical position giving him a modicum of control over his emotions and his body. Rose was looking at him in surprise, but she was waiting without prodding him to continue.

“They’d been torturing Tish until I agreed to help Crofton,” he began in a thick and low voice, yet as distant as he could manage. “Later, after the attack, when Crofton found out about the androids, he... he ordered me to choose which of them would live and who would die.”

Rose flinched and sucked in air between her teeth. She didn’t dare say anything lest she spooked him, preventing him from going on.

“He said he’d kill both if I didn’t choose,” the Doctor said.

Only then, having shared the facts, he allowed his shoulders to slump and his eyes, intent on her during all that time, to dart to the floor.

“And I... I just couldn’t let her die, wouldn’t be able to look him in the eye if it happened,” he confessed softly.

The Doctor looked at Rose again in trepidation, not knowing what to expect. Only then, having said it all, he realized that his palm had been clenched in Rose’s hand all along.

“You saved her life,” she said firmly. “You saved all of us. If not for you, they’d be no survivors in this town now and the planet would’ve been plunged into slavery for centuries again. How can you blame yourself for anything?”

Incessant babbling had always been this incarnation’s way of self-preservation, and it was a rare occasion when the Doctor didn’t know what to say. Now he opened his mouth only to realize he couldn’t utter a sound. He took Rose’s hand into his instead and traced an intricate path on it with the fingers of his other hand.

“You know, I couldn’t stop thinking about finding you but had not the slightest idea where to start. Didn’t know whether you were alive or not. Crofton never told me anything about the bombing, never revealed where they’d been keeping you. Keeping me clueless suited him well – the only reason I didn’t run was because I didn’t know where to run to.”

Rose curled up with her back to his chest. The Doctor was so rarely in the mood for sharing that she wanted to encourage every minute of it. His cool fingertips kept drawing lines on her palm and her skin beneath them was tingling pleasantly.

“Tish said once that Crofton and I were alike,” he half-smiled.

“How so?”

“Well, don’t know... Maybe she meant our fierce intelligence and devilish charm?”

“No wonder you didn’t like Crofton from the off,” she laughed. “Afraid of a rival?”

“I’m a Time Lord, Rose, what rivals are you talking about!” he said with indignation.

They’d been sitting in silence for so long that Rose started a little when he spoke again softly – more relaxed than before but just as mirthlessly and earnestly. “I might have mentioned... My people called themselves the guardians of the universe. Earlier, before Gallifrey ceased to exist, much more was possible while were were keeping an eye on everything. We could have popped into a parallel universe or tried to rewrite somebody’s timeline.”

Rose was listening raptly – he’d been speaking about home or other Time Lords only a couple of times before.

“We’d always been taught not to interfere, only to observe,” he continued, “because Time Lords were too powerful to allow themselves to help anybody. What a name actually,” he scowled. “They saw only far into the future, only the grandest of endgames, and never paid attention to the particulars – to these very people, the insignificant ones, who live the history Time Lords are preserving. They thought those lives were worth nothing in the face of the grand objectives. That was one of the reasons I ran. I started running as soon as I was initiated into the mysteries of Time – and never stopped since.”

Rose took away her hand only to twine their fingers together.

“You’re not like any of them, Doctor. Sometimes hard decisions have got to be made but it’s not your fault and it doesn’t make you a monster. Hennis gave his life for Tish and you know what?” she asked, turning to face him. “If the whole universe could judge your people based on you, they’d know that Time Lords were the noblest, bravest, the most just and compassionate race out there.”

The Doctor smiled tentatively and squeezed her hand. “I seriously need to introduce you to a couple of Time Lords.”

“I’ve met one and he’s enough,” she said.

He sighed and closed his eyes. “He loved her so much, Rose,” the Doctor said brokenly.

“I know that. She knows that. There was no right or wrong option, Doctor. You have to forgive yourself and let it go.”

“I’ll be alright,” he promised.

“Sure, but at what cost?”

He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter.”

Rose took his head in her hands and kissed his brow tenderly. “It matters to me. You’re the only person in the universe who’s not to blame himself for anything at all.”


	18. Billions of Stars Above Alerto

_Day 728_

It was Rose’s first chance to dress up in almost two months. She had no clothes of her own for the occasion but Dalma found a few dresses in her wardrobe that would fit Rose and Tish. Everybody in Alerto had been waiting for the Equinox impatiently. It was the day when they could forget the hardships and the war, put on their best clothes and celebrate across the whole town without thinking about going hungry for days after that.

“So. How do I look?” Rose asked with a sly grin.

She lifted her hair and twirled coyly in front of the Doctor. The only mirror in the house was situated on the ground floor, but she didn’t need to see her reflection to feel feminine now, after weeks wearing shapeless robes.

“Brilliant!” the Doctor beamed.

With a happy laugh, Rose put a large star-shaped hairpin into her tresses and pulled the Doctor towards the door.

The preparations had been going on from the early morning. The main street in front of Dalma’s shop was divided in the middle by a row of tables that had been filling up with food and decorations in the course of the day. Everybody brought what they could, be it a huge plate of treats, a wobbly six-pointed star or the meagre produce of their dried-out plot.

The streets of Alerto looked as festive as never before. They’d been cleaned recently and sported bright ribbons now, thrown between neighbouring houses and hanging down from the windows. Those who possessed no ribbons had hung out colourful rags, albeit somewhat bleached by the sun. The doors had been decorated with stars – made of paper or wood or that strange flexible metal that resembled plastic. Some of them were perfect, others were children’s not quite neat work. Rose hadn’t seen people so happy in all the time she’d spent in Alerto, not even right after the attack.

“Glad to see that the Proximians are such a lively bunch,” the Doctor drawled. He was walking along the street with his hands in his pockets, twisting his head around with curiosity.

“Don’t judge the whole race by its single representative,” Rose teased.

The Doctor bumped into her shoulder playfully. “Even if he’s its most prominent representative?”

Chinne was sitting at the shop’s doorstep, obviously having a sulk. She wore a light-green linen dress decorated with paper stars that rustled with her every movement. Her long black hair was braided and gathered into an intricate knot at the back of her head. Rose had no idea when Dalma had found time for all of that.

“Hey, whassup?” she asked, sitting down next to the girl.

Chinne crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Mum didn’t allow me to make fireworks with Uncle Aled and Professor Ktalush. She said I’d get my dress dirty,” she complained with indignation.

“Maybe she wanted you to help her here?” smiled Rose. Chinne was having none of it.

“I’m not allowed to do anything today,” she said defiantly. “No running, or the hair will get loose. No going to the village to buy meat with Da, or there won’t be time to get dressed. Not even going to your room in the morning! What kind of a celebration is that?”

Rose stifled a laugh and darted a glance at the Doctor. He squatted in front of the girl.

“We’ll make our own fireworks, the best out there!” he gave her a conspiratory wink. “Show me – where have you got gunpowder?”

Chinne beamed and jumped to her feet. Looking back through the door where Dalma was working on the last preparations, she had to get one thing straight, “And my Mum won’t be cross?”

The Doctor wrinkled his nose in a funny way. “Nah, it’ll be alright. It’s a special day! The day when Mums aren’t allowed to be cross.”

“I’ll remember that for our next Christmas in London,” Rose said when the two were leaving. The Doctor threw her a radiant smile over his shoulder.

The whole town was gathered in the main street by the lunchtime. It was impossible to get to the tables or squeeze your way through the crowd. It was hard to imagine on any other day that Alerto had so many inhabitants. Their number had at least doubled since the beginning of the war despite all the losses among the rebels.

The usually quiet Proximians were producing a lot of noise. Rose hadn’t seen such a noisy celebration since her last trip home. People were laughing and shouting and singing all over each other without any respect for the rhythm their peculiar whistling instruments were setting. Having liberated a trumpet of sorts from a would-be musician, Aled jumped onto a table and blew it loudly. The high-pitched squeal of mistreated instrument and the shout of its owner that followed made the crowd quiet down a little and turn their heads towards Aled.

“People of Alerto,” he began pompously, “Professor Ktalush and I have prepared something special for this occasion for all of you to see.” Grinning wildly, Aled pulled a remote out of his shirt and pressed a button with the air of mystery about him. A deafening clinking followed, and two dozen of androids that had been lining the street as a decoration and a morale boost since the attack, stepped forward. People in their proximity reared back to give them space.

The androids raised their metallic arms and began to dance awkwardly. The commotion made the weary rebels almost panic at first but then they laughed and circled the robots with cheers.

“They’re working! You got them to work!” exclaimed one of the former slaves.

Two tipsy musicians found their way into the circle and began mock-accompanying the dance. Aled jumped off the table to stand next to the Doctor and Rose, puffing his chest out proudly. “What do you think? I’ve always wanted to make them do something like that.”

“The best use for war androids!” the Doctor smiled sagely.

Aled grinned and squeezed through the throng to swirl one of the androids. Other people followed his example, dancing with the machines. Rose looked up at the Doctor with a smile. “They don’t seem to mind the progress if this is what it looks like.”

“They’re intelligent. They just need time. It’s typical for societies where some people possess technology way ahead of their age while the others are crippled by poverty.”

“But what does seven-two-two mean?” she asked, narrowing her eyes slyly. The Doctor smiled. Rose added, “ The android said ‘seven-two-two’.”

“Seven hundred and twenty-two,” he corrected.

“And?”

“That’s the number of days since we’ve met. It’s hard to keep track of time on the TARDIS,” he said, tugging his ear uneasily. “It’s actually seven hundred and twenty-eight today, so...”

“You’ve been counting!” Rose laughed with delight. “So apparently I’m twenty-one.”

“In Earth years, sure. But don’t get too full of yourself, it’s only fourteen on Proxima.”

The rare and exuberant celebration was almost more tiring than regular work. People were too tired to frolic about by the time the burning sun turned hot-red and inched towards the horizon. Since there’d been no chairs or benches, people began making themselves comfortable right on the paved street, not caring about their fancy clothes in the end.

The general hubbub had quieted down, so Rodrick had no problem commanding everybody’s attention when he appeared on the shop’s roof, holding onto a high spire topped with a star. Full, content people craned their necks with languid curiosity. Their leader gave them a warm smile.

“As you can see, Professor Ktalush and Aled managed to map the androids’ commanding routines. Now that we have war machines and the enemy’s last power plant has been destroyed, the advantage is on our side. People of Alerto,” he proclaimed solemnly, “we’re gearing up for the last fell stroke next week to overcome the elite once and for all.”

Having waited for the murmurs – first confused, then celebratory – to die out, Rodrick continued, “Let’s not forget who’s to be thanked for that. You probably know that the man whom we owe our oncoming victory and our lives is with us today.”

He spotted the Doctor in the crowd and pointed towards him proudly with an outstretched hand. People surrounding the Doctor took a reverent step back to make him better visible for the others. The man in question shuffled his feet in well-worn plimsolls but stood straighter, his hands tucked in his pockets.

“Doctor,” Rodrick said, “let me thank you from all of us. Unfortunately, we can’t repay you in kind.”

“My brother-in-law loves public speeches,” Aled grinned.

Professor Ktalush and Aled made a fire in the wasteland behind the houses and threw a bunch of self-made fireworks into it – some tubes filled with coal and saltpetre. Cheering townspeople had gathered on rooftops and by the second storeys’ windows to see the short but colourful show. When the last sparks fizzled away, Chinne and the Doctor stepped closer to the fire, holding hands and grinning widely. The two of them looked smug and a little bit shifty. The Doctor carried a large square box in his other hand.

“What are they up to?” Dalma narrowed her eyes.

Aled gave her a wild smile. “Buckle up, looks like there’s gonna be a show!”

Chinne took a long burning stick from the Doctor, held it to the fuse for a second and hurried away, rustling with the paper stars on her dress. The sizzling fire soon reached the box. The spectators gave a strangled cry when they had to shield their eyes from the blinding flash. The ray of light flew up into the air to fall apart in a storm of golden sparks. Several more followed, each accompanied by a loud bang. With her hair loose from the dancing, Chinne was clapping happily and beaming.

Rodrick grinned proudly and said to Aled, “Looks like we’ve got one more pyrotechnician growing up.”

The sparks burned out soon, but even they hadn’t been as bright as the blanket of stars above Alerto. Several large planets could be seen nearby, and Proxima’s moon appeared to be so close that it looked painted onto the sky.

“You can’t get used to that,” Rose said dreamily, throwing her head back. “This sky, these stars... It’s like I can’t believe quite yet that I really see all of them.”

“Wait till we get to Takunda. It’s got four moons and its orbit’s so close to that of the other planets in the system that they often fill up the whole of the sky.”

Rose slipped her arm into the crook of the Doctor’s elbow. “Like over there?” she asked, pointing jokingly at a large cluster of stars.

The Doctor grinned. “Nah, that’s actually the direction of the Earth. You can see it from here for the next several thousand years – given a decent telescope and favourable conditions, of course. A couple of times every century. If you know exactly where to look.”

“You’re making it up on the fly!” Rose narrowed her eyes.

“Yeah, and I’m brilliant at it. Come on!”

Grabbing Rose by her hand, the Doctor pulled her into a dance around the fire. The townspeople were laughing and dancing to a lively song that was surprisingly melodic given the motley bunch of singers. Rodrick and Dalma were standing at some distance, embracing each other.

After a while, Rose was clinging to the Doctor’s shoulders, gasping for air with her reddened cheeks and a huge smile. She had barely any energy left to laugh. “So what have you been telling me about Proximians being unable to have fun? We’ve got to come back here sometime,” she panted.

“How reckless of you – to plan for the future, Rose Tyler,” he said teasingly. “You presume an awful lot, like a typical human.”

“Alright, we’ve got to come back here – if we don’t get into any trouble again,” she giggled.

Then she sobered up rather quickly – the Doctor was staring at her so intently that Rose shivered a little under his gaze. Breathing out an awkward half-laugh, she was about to cover it up with a joke, but the back of his fingers ghosted over her cheek at that very moment. When he kissed her, it was like the most ordinary thing in the universe.

Rose’s muddled brain refused at first to catalogue it as something happening for real. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t kissed her before – yesternight out in the desert, saying goodbye at the Game Station, later in Rome without any regard as to how it would look for a human – but the very idea seemed to fit better with her fantasies than the reality.

When he pulled away, a smile was lighting up his face. “Hello,” he whispered into her lips.

Rose smiled in return. “Hello.”

“Everybody’s leaving. Time to go back?”

She looked around in surprise. The crowd around the dying fire was thinning. Hot coals hissed dramatically when Rodrick and Aled upended a bucket of water onto them, leaving but a few crackling pieces.

Rose and the Doctor walked tiredly back to their room at Dalma’s. The light was still on in the kitchen – a few obviously inebriated visitors had decided to party on and could be dissuaded only when Dalma threatened to throw them out on their bums. People who knew Dalma well didn’t put much stock into her threats, but she still looked more menacingly than her husband.

With a sigh, Rose fell onto the bed next to the Doctor and rested her head on his chest. “Looks like Rodrick will be gathering the council tomorrow,” she mumbled.

The Doctor ran his palm over her back in contemplation. “We’ll be able to get back to Earth when the rebels take over the teleport. We’ve done here everything we could.”

“Has Crofton ever mentioned the Cardiff rift?”

“No, but he’s got no Earth currency. He won’t stay afloat for long without that Garrett Playton bloke, so he’ll have to sell some of his batteries in England. Well, he’s almost gone native there. I won’t be surprised if he flees to England once he realizes the war’s lost.”

“It’s almost winter at home,” giggled Rose. “I hope Santa will bring him some warm clothes.”

A laugh rumbled deep in the Doctor’s chest. He pulled her closer and placed a kiss on her crown. Rose lifted her head and summoned her resolve to slowly press her lips to his faintly stubbled chin without breaking the eye contact. Her mouth parted from his skin with a wet pop only to alight on his cheek a moment later.

The Doctor exhaled heavily, palmed the side of her face and languidly traced her recently sharpened cheekbone with his thumb. Then he closed the distance to her lips. Rose wrapped her arms around his shoulders and drew him closer still with a soft moan that reverberated in his body – so close that he heard and felt her heart thumping wildly in her chest. The Doctor turned them around in one rapid motion so that Rose landed on her back.

She arched into him and moaned when he covered her lips with a slow sweet languid kiss. Rose couldn’t help an ‘ooh’ when his body pressed with a delicious weight into her chest and gasped when their teeth clanked. Gripping his arm, she sucked his tongue into her mouth. The Doctor pulled back with a sharp intake of air, letting her breathe too, propped himself on his elbow and gazed at Rose. Her eyes looked black and almost delirious, her lips glistened with moisture and her chest was rising rapidly, struggling for air.

Her skin felt soft and a little damp to the touch. The nightshirt she’d been sleeping in was so thin that the Doctor could see the hard buds of nipples beneath it even in moonlight. He covered her breast with his palm and tentatively, experimentally ran his thumb over one nipple. He hadn’t been with human women often, and for this particular incarnation, every touch was fresh and untried.

Rose’s hands, suddenly free, helped him remove his vest – the only remaining layer of his usual clothes that inexplicably hadn’t been too hot for him to be dancing in during the whole afternoon. The muscles of his belly shivered under her tentative spellbound touch.

Rose looked up, her eyes wide and liquid, the fire of her skin setting the Doctor aflame. Her lips parted in welcome to his kiss, the tip of her tongue playfully sliding along the inner side of his upper lip, and the Doctor lost any semblance of composure with a rattled groan. Pushing his fingers beneath the damp fabric of Rose’s nighty that had pooled around her thighs, he yanked it up. She gave a muffled sob and arched into his touch when his hand cupped her naked breast.

Tugging on the nighty with shaking hands, Rose pulled it over her head and threw it to the floor without a second glance. That left her completely naked since she had to make do without undergarments in her time on Proxima. Rose squeezed her knees awkwardly – partly to hide but also to alleviate the pulsing heaviness between her legs if at all possible.

She turned her head to offer the soft expanse of her sensitive neck to flitting bites and soothing pressure of his tongue. When the Doctor’s knee, still covered by the fabric of his suit, pushed between her legs, she opened up for him readily. He broke off with a low moan and propped himself on his elbows. With a blush of arousal burning on her cheeks, Rose was gasping for air. The Doctor moved his hand down and undid the button of his trousers without taking his eyes off her.

Rose’s fingers pulled down the zipper, freeing his painfully straining cock, and wrapped around it carefully. The Doctor dropped his head onto her shoulder with a hoarse moan and pushed into the soft warmth of her hand.

“Rose,” he breathed, an almost imperceptible whisper that rang deafeningly in the night’s absolute stillness.

Having kicked off the trousers that’d gathered around his ankles, the Doctor covered her with his body again. So many clever, intricate nerve bundles that his race’s women hadn’t possessed were burning, pulsing, yearning for his fingers, his lips, his tongue.

Desires that had been suppressed for millennia, eradicated on the genetic and ideological level, would be surfacing in Time Lords as rage and hunger for power – the sort of things that had made the Doctor run away from his own planet. Time Lords had been conditioned not to desire, and the Doctor had been relentlessly testing himself since that night in the cellar of _Henrik’s_ seven hundred and twenty-eight days ago, until he realized that he’d been running from something else entirely.

Having turned him onto his back, Rose was now leaning over him and running her hands over his chest. When her flushed face moved closer, the Doctor leaned up for the kiss, but she stopped an inch away from his lips with a smile.

“I love you,” she whispered and briefly kissed the corner of his mouth. “I love you,” she followed with a kiss to each of his lowered eyelids. “I love you,” she breathed right into his ear and her lips stayed on his neck – wetly, reverently, forever.

It seemed important to say it for some reason. Rose wasn’t surprised when he didn’t reply. Gripping her waist, the Doctor hugged her fiercely and hid his face in the crook of her neck. She wasn’t going to let him fret, though. Rolling over, Rose pulled the Doctor along, locked her ankles above his thighs and pulled him closer.

Without hesitation, he filled her with one long deep thrust and held still. It felt unusually hot and unusually tight, not at all like in his recently more frequent dreams but better. Rose wiggled a little in protest, urging him to move, and he couldn’t deny her this wish.

With his eyes screwed shut, the Doctor reached for her temples but came to his senses in time and jerked his hands away, clenching his fists. Rose didn’t notice, lost in sensation, but she was unlikely to understand what he’d really wanted, in any case. It was perfect anyway – the moon, the stars, the rustling of their sheets, Rose’s short moans and his own rattled breaths. No holding back, no fighting for self-control, as it hadn’t been in a very long time.

She arched, clenched inside, her fingers dug into his shoulders and her eyes went wide as if in surprise, then fell shut. Her lips parted slightly, but the sound that threatened to burst out was far too loud to let it escape. The Doctor followed her almost immediately, thrusting into her sharply, without restraint, deep enough to bruise the tips of his hip bones and emptying himself with a rasping moan. He collapsed on top of her chest, his arms unable to support him.

Several minutes had passed until he regained the presence of mind to slip out of her, wincing at the friction of his over-sensitive flesh, and roll down onto the mattress. The Doctor heard Rose’s movements when she turned to him and propped herself on her elbow. When he gathered enough courage to open his eyes, her face above him was so anxious and pale that it looked ashen in the moonlight.

“Doctor?” she said uncertainly.

He sighed, hugged her closer and planted a short sloppy kiss somewhere between her lips and her chin.

“Everything’s fine, Rose. It’s very late. Time to sleep?”

She nodded despondently after a moment’s hesitation. Still propped on her elbow, she considered resting her head on his chest but opted for the makeshift pillow in the end, putting her hands beneath her cheek. The Doctor didn’t dare turn to her. Everything they’d had before was now erased by his fingertips on Rose’s skin and he didn’t know yet how much he’d be hating himself for that.


	19. Forever

_Day 729_

“Can’t sleep?”

Nights in the deserts like the one around Alerto weren’t really cold but rather offered relief after a long hot day and gave room for thought. Rose had had problems falling asleep. She’d been tossing and turning for some time while determined to pretend she’d been out cold. In the end, her tiredness had got the better of her – it’d been a rather long day indeed.

The Doctor thought it would be better to get back by dawn so that Rose wouldn’t have to wake up alone to puzzle over the events of the night, but at that very moment, he didn’t believe he’d be able to move for the whole eternity.

Aled came closer to sit next to him on the porch.

“I’ve already slept yesterday,” the Doctor replied belatedly without turning round.

Aled snorted. “Is that sarcasm or am I supposed to die of envy right here and now?”

“Take your pick,” the Doctor sighed.

“Can’t believe it’s almost over,” Aled said after a brief pause, rocking slightly to and fro. “The war, I mean, and all that,” he gestured at the empty street with a wide sweep of his hand. “Ever been to a war before?”

“Yeah.”

“How does it feel? When it’s over. I mean...” Aled licked his lips in contemplation and began babbling, apparently forgetting his own question. “Well, as far back as I remember, the war was either ongoing or about to break out. But actually, the conflict had been dragging on for decades. The war could’ve been prevented so many times but nobody did that.”

The Doctor hummed noncommittally but refrained from saying anything. Aled wasn’t really expecting a reaction anyway. He went on, staring blindly into space. “I remember when Dalma began to work. They were allowed unions, unions that eventually tried to speak up against slavery. That was about the time when protest marches and other nonsense like that were still permitted. But then somehow nobody cared any more because the working day became shorter, there was a pay rise and a bonus for Equinox, and people forgot about slaves.”

“Figures.”

“I was just a kid and she spent her bonus on that huge remote-controlled noctone truck for me. Made in Old Butassa’s factory. Who wants to think about a revolution when you’ve got a huge noctone truck and piles of grub on your table?” Aled waved his hand in resignation.

“So what’s changed?”

He shrugged. “The slaves began to rise against the regime. We come from a family of slaves too, did you know that? Our Gramps and Grandma had been sweating their guts out in the mines. Others expected to be set free too, but then it was over. No more freed slaves, no more leniency towards runaways. Only three social strata without anything in between. Just a huge chasm.”

“That’s a nifty way to go about things. Butassa’s been telling me about it.”

“Sure. It’s been their doing, the elite’s,” Aled nodded. “Hired hands refused to work alongside slaves. Slaves had been infused with hatred towards workers. We’d all been sitting on a keg of gunpowder, so when the war started, it felt like it had always been there. Nobody was surprised, nobody was afraid. The war just... was.”

“Yeah,” the Doctor nodded vaguely.

“No idea what to do when it’s over.”

The Doctor drew himself up. “You’ll find a job. Buy a house with carpets and sofas, get a family. Maybe you’ll have a breakthrough in robotics. You’ll have a normal, quiet life.”

“This is what scares me,” Aled laughed. “Carpets and sofas. Who’s come up with all that stuff?”

“... or you can forget about it all and go places where nobody knows you. Run and never stop. No getting attached to anybody. Then it definitely won’t get worse.”

“I can imagine Dal’s face!” Aled sniggered. “And what about you, Doctor? What will you be doing when you leave here?”

“Same old. Not that anything’s changed. Not that I’ve got much of a choice.”

“Doesn’t sound too tempting, but the two of you are always welcome here, you do know that, right? You’re a national hero of sorts now.”

The Doctor arched his eyebrow sceptically. “Thank you, I’ll consider that.”

Aled rose to his feet heavily. “No need to be so enthusiastic,” he said with a laugh then added more earnestly, “But thank you, really. And I’m sorry if I came across as a cad back on Kepler. We hadn’t understood each other at first, apparently. But I think we’ve been through so much during these few weeks that a lot of things have changed. My attitudes too.”

“Well hopefully that means fewer explosions,” the Doctor said, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “This planet’s got enough of them.”

“It’s almost over. The planet can survive a couple more.”

***

When Rose awoke, she wasn’t surprised to see the Doctor gone. It also didn’t come entirely unexpected to her that he met her in the kitchen with a radiant smile. He was zipping around like on other mornings before that in the TARDIS control room, and nothing in his eyes, his body language or the sitting arrangements at the table gave the faintest indication of what had transpired between them a few hours ago.

The Doctor was so adept at ignoring the elephant in the room that Rose briefly doubted her sanity and thought she might have dreamed it all up. In the night before, however, she’d progressed from euphoria through shame and anger at herself to the resignation of being dropped off at the Powell Estate a.s.a.p. so she gladly fell back into their usual easy rapport.

“That’s the plan,” Rodrick announced with barely time for everybody to take their seats at the table. “We’ll attack in three days. That’s enough for us to gather troops and mobilize other rebel camps, but not enough for Butassa to overcome the Doctor’s programming of their remaining androids. We can press our advantage if we act quickly.”

“As far as we know, the President’s in his palace,” Aled added. “We’ll blow the whole capital to pieces. Maybe even get Butassa in the process.”

“Wait wait wait!” the Doctor protested. “You’re gonna occupy the city. Why destroy it?”

Aled rolled his eyes. “Figuratively speaking! Either way, I want to smoke out that scum before we end them.”

“You’ve got war androids,” the Doctor reminded patiently. “It’s a force they most probably won’t be able to withstand. The government’s got nothing but a handful of hired soldiers who’ll desert as soon as they realize that there’ll soon be no masters left to pay them. The city will be yours once you cross its border. Give them a scare, make them surrender. That’s all you’ll need.”

“But people must see those who are responsible punished!” Aled persisted. “You know how many years Butassa’s been working on his projects? The government wouldn’t have means for this war at all if not for his and his father’s generous donations to the state treasury, let the stars pass their judgement on his damned soul.”

“I think...” Rodrick began uncertainly.

The Doctor propped himself on his elbows and leaned forward, coming almost nose to nose with Aled. “Then you’ll become the same sort as they are. Not better at all. The age of freedom and equality on Proxima-6 will begin with a senseless bloodshed. Is that what you’re fighting for? Is that what your people have been dying for? Is that why Tish is mourning Hennis and Dalma goes spare hoping you won’t hatch another harebrained scheme?”

“Enough!” the Commander slammed his hand against the tabletop. “Aled, we’re not going to blow anything up and we’ll decide what to do with the elite’s leaders when the war has been won. As of now, we haven’t even moved out of Alerto yet.”

The Doctor relaxed and sat back in his chair. Aled clicked his tongue and folded his arms across his chest in a gesture of forced surrender. The others had been watching the argument with curiosity – everybody but Dalma. She wouldn’t brook any war-related discussions in her kitchen during meal time.

“Quit turning my house into a circus!” she exploded. “If you’re going to share the trophies, you’re welcome to do that outside. How are you going to establish peace on the whole planet if you can’t even let others eat in peace?  You’re forgetting that we have a guest who’s just escaped torture the day before yesterday and shouldn’t be having any part in this war anyway.”

“Ease off, Dal,” Aled scowled.

“Your sister’s right,” said Rodrick.

Having been responsible for her little brother since childhood, Dalma would only rarely run out of steam to argue with him, but Rodrick always took over if that happened. Aled sighed and stood up from the table.

“Alright, alright. I’ll pop out for some air. Meanwhile, you’ve gotta figure out how to block all roads leading out of the capital and occupy the teleport, so that none of them can sneak off the planet. Yeah, and silently if you please – to spare Dal’s nerves.”

“Aled,” Rose called after him.

Under the Doctor’s questioning gaze, she set aside the spoon she’d been gripping ineffectually for the last several minutes and rushed out of the kitchen after Aled. Chinne had been watching the scene unfold with an undisguised interest and was about to follow the two outside when her parents stopped her. The girl slumped back into her seat, scowling and crossing her arms just like her uncle. Dalma shook her head with a sigh: no matter what they did, their daughter was taking after Dalma’s little brother.

“Hey,” Rose called, stepping outside after Aled.

The sun was inching up the morning sky and the birds, forced by the desert’s heat to take refuge in the oasis that was Alerto, were singing as loudly as at the break of dawn. The town looked quite unseemly after Equinox, yesterday’s festive decorations turning into common rubbish littering the streets.

“I left here as soon as I’d finished my education,” Aled said in frustration. “Had been working at Butassa’s teleport first. When he’d been hiring techs for Kepler, it was a sign from above. I was eager to go anywhere as long as it was far away from here. Look around, Rose,” he gestured at the houses. “You know what it’ll be like after the war? Same as before, minus the slavery! I’m suffocating here. To be honest, in my heart of hearts I don’t want the war to end.”

Rose sat down next to him and put her hand on his shoulder. “Nobody’s forcing you to stay here,” she said. “The capital will be yours. You can live there or anywhere you wish.”

Aled turned to her with a bitter scowl. “So I’d leave them all to rebuild Alerto on their own? Dal would never forgive me that. She’s been keen for me to get back under her wing again. You must have noticed it’s hard to argue with her.”

Rose cocked her head. “But you don’t have to argue. She’ll understand one day. Maybe not right away. You know, I’d been thinking along the same lines. That I belonged at the Estate, with my mum and that bloke from the high rise next to ours, the one I’d been friends with since childhood.” She chuckled. “Then the Doctor came along and everything became, well... Not quite unimportant, but... It’s just that I saw there was another way. That I might be worth something. I probably hurt my mum a lot and still go on hurting her. Maybe deep in her heart, she’s still hating the Doctor, but I simply can’t imagine turning my back to it all and going back to a normal life.”

“...since there’s so much out there we haven’t explored yet.”

Rose flinched and turned around. The Doctor was standing on the porch, leaning against the door frame, his hands in the pockets of his battered pinstriped trousers. His face was unreadable and calm, without any trace of his usual grin and flamboyance. Rose got to her feet awkwardly.

“Have you been eavesdropping?” she asked defensively.

He wrinkled his nose and bounced slightly on the balls of his feet. “Nah, not really. You haven’t been hiding, exactly, and I haven’t thought it such a secret – that Rose Tyler can’t go back to the Powell Estate to work in a shop. Not after everything.”

“Sometimes I think I’m dreaming and all of it will end if I do something rash. That I’ll quickly find myself back home – just like Adam or Sarah Jane.”

“I’ve promised not to do that to you. Not to you, Rose. The TARDIS is your home just as it’s mine. For as long as you like.”

“Even forever?” she asked defiantly. It was hard to keep her voice from trembling but she mostly managed.

“Then forever. And more.” The Doctor brought himself up and offered her his hand.

“And what about humans who wither and die?” she reminded him sadly, not hurrying to fold her hand into his and setting her jaw in attempt to control herself.

He sighed. “There are things I can do nothing against. Things that I shouldn’t have allowed. But if you want this, I’m ready to think of consequences later, when the time comes.”

Smiling tentatively through the unbidden tears that dropped from her eyelashes, Rose touched his palm with her fingertips, shaking slightly.

“Really?” she said brokenly.

The Doctor sighed again, drew her flush against his chest and burrowed his hand in her soft blonde hair.

“I’d be a fool if I refused,” he smiled.


	20. The Wind Is Picking Up

_Day 734_

Proxima was transformed in a matter of days. Towns – formerly isolated, cordoned off and riddled with checkpoints – could take a breath of relief. People weren’t afraid to leave their houses any more. Cars were flitting along now-open roads. The whole planet was glowing with the new, unusual state of peace.

Just as the Doctor had anticipated, the government had surrendered with no resistance, having lost energy and resources, their androids and the hired troops. The outcome of the only bloodless battle in Proxima’s history had been predetermined with his programming skills in a cellar of one of the elite’s military bases.

The rebels had occupied the capital, putting the president and his cronies under arrest. The townspeople were overcome with joy. Only Cuthbert couldn’t be found in any of his usual hidey-holes.

“The bastard got away!” Aled was crushed. “What a cowardly piece of... I just knew he’d take off the moment he stopped making profit. Should have finished him off while we were still on Kepler.”

Rose darted a worried glance at the Doctor. “You think he’s on Earth?”

He frowned and scratched his neck. “Crofton’s been studying rifts on other planets too, but he’s penniless now and your planet seemed the pinnacle of hospitability,” he muttered.

“We have to get back there as soon as possible!” she cried. Then a shadow crossed her face. “What if he damaged the teleport so that we can’t get to him?”

“And cut off his way back forever?” the Doctor wrinkled his nose in doubt. “Either way we won’t know that without checking. So I suppose we must be off. Have been hanging around for a long time, anyway. The good old TARDIS must be missing us.”

“I dread to imagine what my mum will say...” Rose shook her head grimly.

The Doctor winked at her. “Let’s solve problems as they come along. We’ve survived one war. It’s a bit too early to be worrying about the next one.”

“You’ve been fighting the most terrifying creatures of this universe, yet you’re still afraid of my mum.”

“I don’t see the implied contradiction in your last sentence,” the Doctor drawled.

Rose was about to become indignant but settled for a wide grin and a nudge in his ribs. “I’m looking forward to her reaction.”

Proximians were so busy rebuilding their world that barely anybody noticed Rose and the Doctor’s departure from Dal’s house, save for their few neighbours. Aled and Rodrick offered to take them to the teleport.

With tears in her eyes, Chinne threw her arms around Rose’s neck. “I thought you’d stay with us forever,” she said, disappointed.

Rose squatted and hugged the girl. “It’s time for the Doctor and me to leave.”

“But it’s not even war any more!” Chinne protested. “Mum says many people will go to live in other towns now and we’ll have plenty of room in the house.”

“But it’s not our home,” Rose smiled.

“Besides,” the Doctor added, “there’re people waiting for us on our home planet. Rose’s got a very strict mum too,” he whispered confidentially.

That argument seemed to persuade Achiniah more than anything else. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, extricated herself out of the embrace and said in a businesslike fashion, “Then you better get a shift on.”

The Doctor and Rose glanced at each other with a laugh. Sometimes not only her mannerisms but also her turn of phrase were indistinguishable from Aled’s.

“Well,” the Doctor sighed, patting down his pockets as if checking that he’d packed everything, “Chinne’s right. It’s really time to go now.”

“Wait!” Chinne cried. She turned around sharply and dashed into the house.

Glancing furtively at the Doctor who was busy saying goodbye to Dalma, Tish and Professor Ktalush, Rose stepped closer to Aled. He was leaning against the door of the truck, his hands in his pockets, singing under his breath with an affected air of nonchalance.

“You can always come with us, you know that,” she said softly.

He laughed. “Thanks, but no thanks. I’ve thought about it,” he confessed. “There’s nothing to hold me back, but we’re just starting our new life here. I want to see how it goes. You’ll get Butassa without me alright. He’s pathetic now. Besides...” he faltered and Rose looked up at him expectantly. “Besides, the Doctor’s not very happy with me. He wouldn’t be keen for such a company.”

Rose shook her head. “You shouldn’t think like that. You’ve done so much for Proxima and for us. You saved Professor Ktalush, me, everybody on Kepler.”

“And he saved us all,” Aled reminded her, barking an unhappy laugh. “I can’t really win in this game.”

Chinne darted out of the house a minute later. She was clutching a wooden six-pointed brightly coloured star.

“For you,” she presented the gift to Rose and the Doctor, panting from her run. “Take it. That’s our talisman. The Proximian star helps you find the way and always brings you back home. So you’ve got to promise you’ll be back soon.”

***

The trip to the teleport took them several hours. Rodrick kept slowing down in front of former checkpoints out of habit and had to remind himself every time that they didn’t have to go the roundabout way any more. The base that had looked somewhat deserted during the war seemed completely abandoned now. The elite had been trying to hide the state of disrepair from the last of their hired men, but it was glaringly obvious in every corner now.

Aled hopped off the truck first and took in the old box of a building with a sigh. “This is where it all began. All his intergalactic projects.”

“Make sure the teleport remains in the right hands,” the Doctor said.

Aled huffed a laugh. “You’ve got it, boss. Come on, I’ll help you with the settings.”

The corridors, while still barely lit, didn’t look as sinister this time around as when the Doctor and Rose had been walking them for the first time. Now they were just a part of an old disused building.

When Aled connected a large battery delivered from Kepler to the station, the devices began humming, chirping and blinking with dim lights. Crofton had apparently had time to upgrade the power supply for the teleport and some other key stations.

Faint vibration shimmered around the arch above the dais, looking like an electric charge ready to zap you, but actually just rippling away at the touch.

“Done. Next stop – the Earth,” Aled announced grandly.

Rose smiled. “Can’t believe it.”

Stepping closer to the two of them, Aled suddenly turned serious. “You guys,” he said, producing an earnest frown and pointing at each of them, “you have to promise you’ll come back one day.”

Rose threw her arms around his neck. “I’ll miss you,” she murmured.

Aled hugged her back just as fiercely then reluctantly pulled away and turned to the Doctor, saying uneasily, “Doctor...”

He smiled and squeezed Aled’s arm just above his elbow in the Proximian way. “You did well, Aled.”

Rodrick came closer. “It was an honour to meet you. Who knows what would have happened to Proxima without your help.”

“Now it’s time to take care of the Earth,” the Doctor said softly.

Aled smirked. “If you chance across Butassa, give him hell.”

The Proximians stepped out of the way. The Doctor hopped onto the dais and helped Rose up. The glow around the arch rippled, as though letting them in. Catching the Doctor’s eye for the last time, Aled gave him a short nod and pulled the lever. The teleport groaned into life.

The dais beneath their feet began shaking so violently that it almost threw them off. The Doctor held tighter onto Rose’s hand but they didn’t manage to stay upright in the end, tumbling onto the floor once the shaking was over. It was dark around them.

“I’ve just remembered how much I miss the TARDIS,” Rose grumbled, getting to her feet awkwardly.

She looked around, rubbing her bruised knee. The hall was empty and clinically cold but it felt inexplicably like home. She felt dizzy for the movement and the rapid drop in the pressure. Her bubbling joy at making it home faded away when she noticed the look of grim determination on the Doctor’s face. She came closer and touched his sleeve tentatively. “You think Crofton’s here?”

He didn’t reply right away and didn’t even take his eyes off the opaque window in the massive door. His Adam’s apple bobbed nervously. “Don’t know, but I’d rather you stay out of his sight.”

Rose looked up at him in worry and took his hand in hers. Neither Tish nor the Doctor ever went into details of their captivity in Yamshee, but she knew enough not to argue. Suddenly a realization hit her.

“Oh god, my mum! He knew we’d come back!”

The Doctor squeezed her fingers. “I told you, Rose. We’ll be solving problems as they come along.”

The panelled corridor was cold and damp, as though it hadn’t been heated in a long while. The Doctor and Rose exchanged a surprised glance: if the employees on this base had been Proximians like on Kepler, they wouldn’t have felt comfortable in such conditions. Either way, the base appeared empty and silent.

Only pink light was shining from beneath the door of one of the labs – so strong that it was clearly visible from the other end of the corridor. Rose and the Doctor dashed for it without another word or a signal. The door wasn’t locked so it swung open right away. The glow inside was blindingly bright and both of them had to shield their eyes from the sudden assault.

Ripped apart, the rift was gaping like a bleeding wound in the tissue of time and space. The light coming from it was shimmering, refracting, going out for an odd second then blazing even brighter. It was so intense that Rose didn’t notice at first that the Doctor had overcome his initial shock and dashed for the computers.

The deafening howl of a siren brought her to her senses. It sounded the very moment the Doctor touched the keyboard. Rose flinched and ran to the Doctor’s side. He didn’t even turn to face her.

However, no guards closed in on them at the sound of the siren. No pounding of feet could be heard. No Crofton appeared – not in his corporeal form anyway. Instead, a thick beam of snow-white light erupted from the accretion plate and hit the rift, while a shimmering hologram appeared next to the computer. The Doctor and Rose reared back.

“Doctor, Miss Tyler. I’ve had plenty of time to think,” the hologram informed them languidly.

The semi-translucent image of Cuthbert was barely recognizable: he was dressed in a Proximian robe that looked downright alien on him, with his ink-black hair swept hurriedly into a ponytail. The remnants of his self-importance tugging the corners of his mouth forcedly up, he wasn’t looking a foot taller than his height for the first time ever. Even though that was just an image, the Doctor stepped in front of Rose and pushed her behind his back.

“You must have realized that your arrival triggered the destruction of the rift,” the hologram continued. “It will soon devour this planet and probably a few others in the immediate vicinity too. It pains me to leave you now without an opportunity to convey my thoughts to you in detail, but I have to admit that our acquaintance taught me a valuable lesson. I’m afraid I’ll have to take comfort in the fact that you’ve got to witness this event and had enough time to consider its cause and consequences.”

The recording blinked out for a moment. Then Crofton added, folding his hands behind his back and plastering one of his usual meaningless smiles on his face, “Goodbye, Doctor, Rose. Until we meet again on one of other worlds.”

When Rose came to her senses and was able to realize what was going on, the Doctor was already hammering away at the keyboard, his face distorted with effort. “We need the TARDIS! We really, really, really need the TARDIS!” he shouted.

“But she’s a three hours’ drive away!”

The Doctor pounded the table, whirled around and pulled at his dishevelled hair. “No time! The rift’s expanding because of the beam. We’ve got to close it but how? How to do that without the TARDIS?”

“Doctor...” Rose said tentatively. “That teleport... Can you reprogram it to take us to her?”

He flinched as if electrocuted and froze for a second. Then his face beamed in utter delight. “But of course! Rose Tyler, the teleport! Come on!”

She was barely able to track his frantic movements around the hall. Hopping from one console to another, the Doctor was so deep in his thoughts that his speech had no chance to keep up.

“The teleport’s designed for far greater distances, but if it can carry the object – or the subject – across half the galaxy, then... Rose, I didn’t think I’d ever say it, but I’m glad we’ve been visiting your mum with alarming regularity. I believe I’ll never be able to forget her flat’s exact coordinates. Here’s to hoping that I’ll theoretically get more time to forget them, although it’s not that I’ve been planning to... Come on, click into place! Why didn’t I ask Ktalush to bring my sonic from Kepler? I guess nothing can be done about some brainless humanoids’ delusion of grandeur. I don’t mean that literally, of course. Rose, get that lever, will you? No, the one on the left-hand side! No, your other left!”

Barely daring to breathe, she was staring at the shimmer rippling around the arch. It faded out for a bit then came to life again. The Doctor left the control panel to look at the teleport appraisingly. He swallowed. “Well, I can’t guarantee a soft landing. Hold on tight.”

The forced cheerfulness left him at those last words of advice, his voice cracking. When the both of them stepped onto the dais and waited for the teleport to transport them, Rose turned to the Doctor uncertainly. His forehead was covered with a thin layer of sweat. She had barely ever seen him sweat before.

When he felt a soft squeeze of her fingers, he gave her an encouraging smile. Then the reality was whirling and warping around them again.

Upon materialisation Rose stumbled against the coffee table in her mum’s parlour. The Doctor caught her elbow with practised ease, not letting her fall, but she didn’t even notice. Having hastily scanned the surroundings, she started calling, “Mum! Mum! You here?”

There was no reply. The Doctor waited for a few seconds then said urgently, “Rose, we have to get to the TARDIS.”

“But where’s mum?”

She ran from room to room without listening to the Doctor and came back to the front room only after making sure the flat was empty. “She’s not here,” she said in defeat.

Then Rose looked around more carefully. Jackie had never been anal in regards to cleaning, but her flat was always relatively neat. Now, however, the parlour gave the impression that a hurricane had passed through at some point. Rose couldn’t even begin to catalogue all the stuff that wasn’t in its place – it was just too much of chaos. All kinds of documents, old notebooks, countless photo albums...

“Rose,” the Doctor urged. “We really should be going. We’ll find her once it’s all sorted out.”

She nodded sharply and followed him out of the flat. She had to shield her eyes from the bright sun outside. It was shining cheerfully despite the late autumn’s chill, as though absolutely nothing had changed in the last two months.

The TARDIS was waiting faithfully on the very spot the Doctor had left her coming back from Cardiff. The moment they stepped inside, the rotor came to life with the soft green-blue glow, nudging awake the rest of the time machine that had been missing her travellers.

The Doctor ran up to the console and entered the coordinates, patting the metal lovingly as he went. The dear, unmistakable sound of dematerialisation soothed their nerves a little. It felt like the sentient ship was humming inside their heads too, having sensed the tension of her travellers.

Rose braced herself against a coral strut, but the flight was surprisingly smooth: the usually impatient and restive TARDIS seemed to be in a helping mood. When they appeared in the Cardiff lab, the control room was illuminated by the pink glow coming from the rift. The Doctor checked some data on the screen. Frowning, he grabbed a thick cable plugged into the console and dashed outside. Rose followed him.

The smoking accretion plate, now inactive, had drooped lifelessly, but the glow from the rift seemed to have become even brighter, changing its colour from raspberry pink to crystal white as though burning hot. The air in the lab remained as cold as before, however.

Having noticed the tendrils of smoke rising from the accretion plate, the Doctor froze, nearly dropping the cable. A painful lump lodged itself in Rose’s throat: she had never understood much of the Doctor’s fiddling with technology, but he must have banked on Crofton’s equipment to reverse the process of tearing the rift apart.

The Doctor ran to the computer and glanced over the rapidly changing parameters on the screen. The lab remained silent for a few seconds.

“Rose,” he rasped then.

She replied tentatively, “Yes, Doctor?”

It took him a moment and one more blindingly bright flash from the rift that was spewing waves of light like lava, to master enough command of his voice for a shout.

“Rose, get into the TARDIS, quick!”


	21. Epilogue: The Earth’s Last Morning

_Timelessness. In space, in the Vortex, on the Earth._

Minutes, hours and seemingly whole eternities trickle away before he has it in himself to move. Rose won’t wake up for twenty-four hours at least, based on the convention of the planet that doesn’t exist any more. That was the first thing he’d seen to – arranging for enough time for himself to fix everything alone.

Peeling his body off the grating that left a pattern on his skin, he rises to his feet with determination and strides for the consoles. The TARDIS heaves a sigh of despair but doesn’t resist.

She complies when the Doctor takes them back to Earth, as close to the timestamp when their younger doubles disappeared from Cardiff as possible, only to find the recently exploded accretion plate. She allows him to spend almost ten minutes trying to fix it and calls him back onboard with a furious rumble mere moments before a paradox occurs. She doesn’t disobey him even when he begins tangling timelines into a knot.

The Doctor materialises on the base one day earlier using the perception filter and coolly observes Cuthbert recording the message: he can say whatever he wants if that means he buggers off and lets the Doctor finish his job. Having barely waited for Crofton to straighten his robe and leave the lab, the Doctor dashes for the computer consoles, leaning into the screen and ignoring the warning hiss of the TARDIS in his head.

When the Doctor stops, his face is raspberry pink from the rift’s glow. His clenched fists hit the desk, nearly upturning the computer. His bent back begins to shake as though from electric charge. The death of yet another planet – the death of this particular planet is a burden his conscience won’t be able to carry.

At some point – during those barely conscious hours – he wants to drop Rose off somewhen in the Earth’s past, far enough that she wouldn’t witness this day even in her old age. He’d fill her head with fake memories and leave her to spend her life in safety and almost at home. He’d leave her anywhere if that meant he wouldn’t have to look her in the eye ever again. Running away from her is the only thing he feels brave enough for.

The Doctor doesn’t really know why he stops. Definitely not because her tear-stricken face has been looking so peaceful during the last few hours of blessed unconsciousness. He knows too well what’s to come when Rose opens her eyes.

He spends the remainder of his time alone with senseless stumbling around the Vortex. He does that until the last few days of her planet’s existence are crisscrossed with dozens of TARDIS traces and he finds no more timestamp to land.

He sees Jonathan and Colonel Coulson, speaking up at last against the unbidden guest from another galaxy, and Garrett Playton, convinced by his youngest daughter’s pleas more than by any facts UNIT could provide. He sees furious Crofton, presented with the ultimatum to leave without looking back, cursing loudly and shaming the authorities for relying on questionable sources.

He even sees Jackie Tyler, the eternal reminder of his conceit, turning down Jonathan’s offer to get to safety courtesy of UNIT because she was certain until the very end that Rose and the Doctor would come back soon and fix everything much faster than UNIT’s clowns ever could.

White as a ghost and just as unnoticed, the Doctor keeps scouring the timeline with a grim determination for any weakness, for any event fixed not too irrevocably until he ties the timeline into a knot. Now he can’t even stand there and look on.

He realizes what happened only when the TARDIS refuses to move. He crumbles onto the floor with an animal howl in the middle of the coral room. The minutes of blessed hypnosis are trickling away rapidly, but he can’t bear the thought of Rose waking up and facing him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I mentioned in the beginning, this story is the first part of a trilogy. Scarlet Moon (the author) awed me with the DW-ness of it all, with the wonderful worlds and all the feels, and then she was generous enough to let me translate the first part.
> 
> I'd love to translate the rest of the trilogy but I need your honest opinion: did the language feel odd? So odd that it bothered you and distracted from the story? See, translating fiction into a language that's not your first one isn't the done thing because you can never make it perfect. Beverley who volunteered to Brit-pick for me helped me a lot, but she'd have to write everything herself to get it 100% right. 
> 
> I'd hate to spoil what's to come with a sub-par translation so I'd be very grateful for your feedback (so that I can work on my issues or get somebody to help me with them).
> 
> Either way, thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I did :3


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